Ron & Hermione: A Week In The Other Life
by Ravenclaw Midnight Blue
Summary: In his seventh year at Hogwarts, Ron still has trouble understanding girls in general, and Hermione in particular. Meeting a strange witch at Hogsmeade, he accepts her offer of help. Big, big mistake... Find out why! Not Deathy Hallows compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**Ron & Hermione: A Week In The Other Life**

_This is set during an alternative Year Seven of Harry's schooling – and is non-DH compliant._

_Author's foreword: I apologise in advance to anyone who might be offended by this story. This tale is not meant to offend - but to entertain! The following story contains occasional nudity and other themes that involve Close Encounters of the Bonkers Kind. You have been warned!_

**Chapter One:**

**The Proposal**

"Can I help you, young man?"

"Hurr?" Ron Weasley practically grunted, as he looked up from the trinkets on the shelves, laid out at the side of the Romany caravan. A witch, aged in her fifties, with tightly-curled grey hair, and dressed in a odd-looking set of black, grey, and white dress robes, was staring intently at the seventh year Gryffindor student with her glacier-blue eyes.

"You seem…preoccupied. Is there something in particular you were looking for – instead of my usual amulets, jewellery, and lotions?" The trader waved a thin hand towards the hanging items Ron had been idly running his fingers through, making little jangling noises as though they had been miniature wind chimes.

"Err…" Ron scratched his bright ginger hair, and glanced along the crowded street of Hogsmeade, reminding himself that this was the last of the stalls he had come to. Above the general bustle of countless conversations of the village folk, traders, and visiting pupils from Hogwarts, the cries of street entertainers – carol singers, jugglers, accordion players, conjurers, and outdoor comedians – could be heard. Everyone in the street, on this Saturday, was dressed warmly for the chilly mid-December weather – the pupils all had scarves wrapped around their necks, along with their thick coats and casual winter clothing.

_Oh, what the hell…,_ he thought. _I've tried looking in enough places for answers, without luck. Maybe a gypsy can help…_

"Yeah – sort of. I… Well, I like this girl I've been friends with for years. _Really_ like her – if you get what I mean. But I just can't get the courage to tell her," Ron admitted.

"I see." The lips of the Romany witch softened somewhat into a toothless smile. "And do you know if she is wise to your feelings for her? Or do you know how she feels about you?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, that's the problem. I've always been sort of…clueless…when it comes to girls. And this girl in particular… We usually get on just fine – but now and then I rub her up the wrong way." He paused. "Like today, for example. That's why I'm by meself. And I want to make it up to her with the perfect Christmas present – but she's got plenty of what she likes, already, according to my sister. So, I need… I need some help."

"And my wares don't inspire you?"

"Don't know what perfume she likes. And 'Mione – that's her name, by the way – she's not into trinkets. And another problem… Um, I've only got about twelve galleons worth on me. Spent too much on those fab hot toffee apples at 'Munchkins', about six stalls along from here!"

Ron frowned, wondering why he was opening up so much to this woman who he had never seen before. There was something about her presence – something indefinable about her expression and her eyes that encouraged him…

"Hmm…" The witch rubbed a forefinger along her bottom lip. "It seems to me, young man, that your problem lies deeper than a lack of bravery, or ideas. You ultimately want to know what makes this lady tick. How to _really understand_ and connect with her."

"Well… Yeah."

"And would it help if she understood you better, also? If she knew what it was like to be in your shoes?"

"Definitely!" Ron's eyes lit up. "Here – are you an expert in budding relationships? How to play the dating game – and all that?"

The witch laughed. It was rather a sharp, staccato cackle. "Not as such. But I believe I can address your problem, young sir. However, once I have done my part, the rest is down to you and your friend."

"Great! What do you have to do?"

"Oh… I will need to perform a special spell. One that will enhance the perceptions of both of you, in your romantic quest… But I need you and this…'Mione…, here, together. The Winter Fair will still be on tomorrow. My preparations will be complete by then…"

"I could make it back here, tomorrow! I'll _persuade_ Hermione to come with me." Ron tried to sound more hopeful than he felt.

The Romany woman pursed her lips. "Hermione? Hermione Granger, would that be?"

"Err, yeah. You know her?"

"Only from what I have read in 'The Daily Prophet' and 'The Quibbler'. You must be Ronald Weasley. You two are friends of the famous Harry Potter. Why isn't he with you?"

Ron hesitated before speaking. Harry had been spending the autumn term of their seventh year at Hogwarts School for Wizardry and Witchcraft popping in and out of the premises – having been granted special permission by Acting Headmistress Professor McGonagall. Right now, thanks to this arrangement, Harry was working with The Order of the Phoenix to identify and track down the remaining Horcruxes of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The last Ron knew, Harry was close to locating the real Slytherin locket…

"He's…busy… Anyway, what do I owe for this spell?"

"In lieu of your slim finances, I will charge you just ten galleons…"

"Blimey! That's…"

"…a bargain, yes. But the real payment for me will be seeing the spell work its desired effects. So – what do you say?"

"Wow! Me and 'Mione will be back tomorrow, for sure! Erm… What will the spell involve - exactly?"

"Do not concern yourself, boy. It is a strong spell that will ensure that you and Miss Granger have a…, _uh-hum_…, closer relationship. However, it is painless – and it will not take very long."

"Right… And your name is…?"

For an answer, the witch gave another thin smile, and tapped the sign which hung over the side of her caravan. It read 'Madame C. Skerritt'.

"Pay me when you both come tomorrow. Ten galleons only. Be here at two o'clock," the Romany instructed Ron.

"Great! See you then!" Ron waved and left, walking with a spring in his step.

Madame Skerritt watched the departing schoolboy. Her thin smile grew wider.

"The spell isn't painful – but the after-effects might hurt… And I dare say your pride will be wounded…" the trader muttered to herself. She laughed softly, and rubbed her hands in anticipation of what was to come…

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o

Just before two o'clock on the Sunday, Ron and Hermione arrived at the same caravan. The stalls of Madame Skerritt were curiously absent, this time round.

"Look like she's packed up early. Wonder why?" Ron muttered.

"I'm not sure about this, Ron. Short of Legilimency, I've never heard of any magic that specifically allows you to read another person's thoughts." Hermione brushed the dusting of snow flakes from her pale-grey jeans. There had been a light shower as they had walked over to Hogsmeade.

"Well…" Ron hesitated. He had found himself unable to tell her that she was here because Ron wanted the spell cast on both of them, so they would understand each other better. Instead, he had altered the story slightly, suggesting that the spell casting was for another form of magic – one which would intrigue Hermione more. "…it would help us, when we have to assist Harry in tracking down those Horcruxes – if we get to interrogate a Death Eater, for example."

"Well, yes… But where is this Madame Skerritt?" Hermione climbed the steps at the back of the Romany caravan, and knocked on the door. There was no answer. And the curtains were drawn to at the thick glass windows.

She turned round and narrowed her eyes at Ron. "This isn't some trick, is it, Ronald? I'm still rather cross with you, you know – after I found out from Ginny that you thought my legs were skinny! And that my new hairdo was like a birds nest…"

"Look! I said I was sorry about what I said about your hair! And I only looked at your legs when you fell off that sleigh we shared last week, and I helped you treat the gash," Ron huffed.

Hermione had decided to have her hair permed, so that it was even curlier than when he and Harry had first met her. He didn't know why she bothered. It had been just fine before. And it wasn't just _him_. Whilst en route to the next class, he had overheard Millicent Bulstrode and her seventh-year Slytherin pals making fun of it, also. Apparently, Hermione did not catch their whispering.

But Hermione _had_ to make him feel guilty, even after he'd made amends. Merlin! Why did girls have to be so…difficult…sometimes?

_Well, hopefully, I'll soon understand 'Mione better,_ Ron told himself.

"Someone in my dormitory didn't seem to like my new hairstyle, either!" Hermione fumed. "When I was combing it this morning, I saw that some of my hairs had been cut short! It must have been done whilst I was sleeping last night!"

Ron was taken aback by this. "Eh? Who…?"

"Oh, Lavender Brown, no doubt! Not that she's admitted it. She's still got this grudge against me – since you spend your time with me, and not her, after your _dalliance_ last year…"

"Well, that's worrying…," Ron admitted. "Someone seemed to have snipped off a strand or two of my hair, too, when I was having sweet dreams. Not that I could find the bits anywhere… None of the other lads were affected. Dean just thought it funny."

Hermione frowned. "That is _odd_. Who in Gryffindor would target just you and me? Besides Lavender, that is. Anyway, this spell better not take too long. I've got an essay to write for Professor Moody's DADA class on Wednesday. And so have you, Ron!"

"Yes, I know! But my mind's been on other things, just lately!" Ron retorted. "Like the Ball the school's putting on next Saturday…"

Hermione looked at Ron intently. "I thought your parents were holding a full family gathering this Christmas – what with the Death Eater attacks and the disputes within the Ministry making Percy come to his senses. I'm glad he's apologised to Harry and your family for his shameful past conduct…"

"Yeah. A full family gathering is planned – but Mum and Dad declared it, before the school decided they _would_ put on the Ball, after all! And I was wondering, 'Mione, if you were staying at Hogwarts over Chr…"

"Ouch!" Hermione protested. The caravan door had just been opened, striking her shoulder. She spun round, scowling at the Romany witch now standing in the doorway.

"Ahh! There you are. Come in – Mr Weasley, Miss Granger…" She gestured with a claw-like hand.

"Madame Skerritt?"

"Yes indeed, girl. Now – sit down, you two. My work is almost ready!"

Ron and Hermione eased themselves onto the rudimentary bench running alongside the nearest side of the cramped, magically-illuminated caravan. Pans, potions wrapped in individual nets, and other odds and ends hung from the ceiling. In the middle of the wooden floor, two small cauldrons were bubbling over a fire that gave off no heat.

The trader closed the door to with a firm 'slam', which made Hermione shudder. Ron fished out his money and passed it to the grey-haired witch – who smiled and put the coins away.

Hermione looked up from the cauldrons. "Potions? I thought you were going to perform a spell on us, to enable us to read other people's minds?"

Madame Skerritt gave a short staccato laugh. "Oh, it will be a spell, all right! Just watch and learn, my young witch. And…mind reading? Ha! Mr Weasley here wants to understand you better – and you to do the same with him. _That_ is the purpose of our meeting!"

Hermione turned her head to glare at Ron, who was sat next to her.

"Ron…!"

"Alright! I know. I'm doing this for _us_ – so that we stop bickering. Okay?"

"Silence now, children! I need to be focused."

Hermione kept her mouth closed. They both watched as the oddly-dressed witch walked over to the far side of the two cauldrons and gave them a final stir each with their ladles.

Ron made a double-take at the cauldron nearest to him. Did he just see a long hair floating of the surface of…whatever liquid was inside?

Before he could summon the courage to speak up, Madame Skerritt extended her arms towards the two spitting cauldrons, facing her audience. She closed her eyes, and her face became etched with concentration.

Hermione gasped as the liquids in the two small cauldrons gradually changed form. Within seconds, a pair of glowing, churning masses – each about the size of a grapefruit – rose into the air and lit up the dimly-illuminated caravan interior.

"But that's…plasma!" Hermione squealed.

"And done without a wand… Wow!" Ron's mouth hung open.

Madame Skerritt opened her eyes, and gave another of her thin smiles. Suddenly, her raised right hand dropped, so that it was palm-down, in line with her arm. The ball of plasma in front of her right hand shot through the air and slammed into Hermione, disappearing into her body.

She screamed, and jerked.

" 'Mione!" Ron jumped up from his seat, and reached for his wand, tucked behind his belt…

"And this one's for you!" The woman curled her lips further and repeated her hand gesture, on her left side. As Ron aimed his wand at the weird witch, the second plasma globe struck him.

"Uhh!" Ron's back crashed into the panelling next to him. There was no pain – only a tide of fuzziness roaring through him, as the plasma was absorbed by the skin lying over his stomach. His strength went, and Ron slumped to the floor close to Hermione, whose face was contorted with an expression of shock. Then she started to judder, as if she was having a fit.

"Uhh-uhh… Rr-Rr…" Hermione could not even call out Ron's name, he realised.

Seconds later, Ron felt other effects kick in. His bones ached. Some of them – like his pelvic bone - seemed to be changing. And something was happening with his muscles, too. ALL of him was reeling from the impact of the magical plasma. In his trembling convulsion, Ron thought he could sense his body shrinking, especially around his waist. His chest muscles turned flabby - then there was a pressure against his chest. Lower down, a peculiar sensation made itself known, as something was _pulled_ into his body. This gave way to an even odder feeling – the sense that he was being opened up from inside. Ron moaned as his jaw, and the back of his skull, altered slightly.

The last thing that Ron saw, before he blacked out, was the sight of Hermione withering on the floor, her brown hair slowly receding, as her cry became deeper…

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

"Ugghh…! What…the hell happened?"

Ron tried to speak – but Hermione had evidently spoken the same words on his lips. It was certainly her voice – which came as a relief to him.

He waited until the dizziness in his head subsided – then tried moving his head gingerly from where it had been laying, left side down, upon the floor. His muscles ached, but the throbbing started to fade as he stirred.

_Weird… I feel a bit…lighter._

Ron opened his eyes. The first thing to go 'ping' in his mind was that he was no longer on 'the floor'. Instead, he was lying in a snow-free alley between two buildings. The background babble of voices and entertainers nearby, behind a shut, tall wooden gate, told Ron that he was still in Hogsmeade – just off from the main thoroughfare.

With a groan, he slowly propped himself onto one elbow. His hair fell into his face, and he brushed it aside, in annoyance.

_Wait…a…minute…_

"_AAAGGGHHH!"_

The scream startled Ron – especially as it came from just behind him. Turning his head, he froze – dumbstruck – as he spied a _second_ Ron Weasley staring back at him with wide eyes. _His_ eyes. Only this Ron was dressed in Hermione's clothes – clothes which looked rather tight on him in some places…

The original Ron shot a hand up to examine his hair. It was now longer – and grabbing some strands, he was able to see that it was tawny-coloured, and bushy. And the hand was daintier, with neatly-trimmed nails.

His heart missed a beat. Maybe three beats.

Ron dropped his hand to examine his chest. His jumper now curved out slightly in a couple of places. Underneath, there was definitely the swelling of two slim br…

_You have got to be kidding me!_

Ron's slender hand shot further down, to pat around his trouser zip. A lump formed in his throat, as he realised that he was flat in a certain area…

"Rr-Rr-_Ron!_"

The voice was his – but he hadn't spoken. And now, as he responded to the question, Ron realised that it _had_ been him who had asked 'What the hell happened?' in the first place, after all.

"Err, yes. I'm Ron," he declared, in Hermione Granger's voice. "And…ur…I guess you're 'Mione…"

Hermione, now the spitting image of Ron, glared back at her companion – who had been changed into _her_ double, underneath _Ron's _clothes.

Leaning against the alleyway wall for support, as she straightened herself up, Hermione glared at Ron with his own face, and hissed through clenched teeth, using the young wizard's voice.

"_Ronald Weasley! One of these days, I am going to KILL you!"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

**Bewitched, Bothered, And Bewildered**

Ron did not know what to say at first. Eventually, he managed to speak. Or rather, _she_ managed to speak.

"Err… Do you realise how disturbing that sounds…? Especially since I'm hearing me threaten myself!"

"This is no time for jokes, Ron! That witch has transformed me into YOU – and you into ME!" Hermione grimaced, and tugged at her jeans – no, _his_ jeans.

" 'Mione…? Are you in pain?" Ron asked, in a small, nervous voice.

"Well, yes - Ron! I'm a girl who has just been transformed into a boy – but I'm still wearing knickers! How do you think I feel?"

"Ouch…!" Ron trailed off, as she saw her friend start to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

"Hermione?"

"We'd better change clothing, Ron! Until we work out exactly what's going on. I should be dressed as you – and vice versa!"

Ron struggled to speak. "What! Including our underwear?"

Hermione gave Ron a look. Even whilst wearing Ron's face, the expression could only have come from Hermione…

"Right – those knickers… Uncomfortable fit now… Okay. I'll turn round whilst you undress, and…"

Hermione rolled his eyes. "Ron… Think about it. You won't be seeing anything you haven't seen before…" He paused - then added. "And, for that matter, it'll be the same for me - if I happen to glance at you changing clothes…"

"Okay! Okay! I was just trying to be a _gentleman_… Oh, blast it! I hope your underwear's clean…" Ron rabbited on – still disconcerted by the fact she was speaking with Hermione's voice…

"Here's what we'll do! We soak our underwear with Aguamenti spells – then conjure up a quick drying charm," the real Hermione suggested.

A few minutes later, the pair of them had sorted themselves out. To anyone else who knew them, they were simply the usual Ron and Hermione, dressed in their normal Sunday casual clothes…

"Good job we've still got our wands!" Ron-as-Hermione declared. "Now let's find that bloody witch! She must have left us here…"

"Wait! Stop a moment… Our wands!" Hermione-as-Ron put a hand on the original Ron's shoulder.

"What about them?"

"Well – we're still using the wands that chose us. And they seem to work all right. But I wonder what would happen if we swapped them…"

Puzzled, Ron pulled off Hermione's scarf from around her own neck and dropped it upon the ground – then took Hermione's offered wand.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ she intoned.

The scarf twitched at one end. Ron had to concentrate and try three times, before the scarf levitated perfectly.

Hermione cast the same spell with Ron's wand. The stuttering result was repeated.

"Right…" Ron nodded, understanding. "The wands still recognise their true owners, despite our change of appearance. Still – if we get this mess sorted out now, no one will have to notice that we _seem_ to be using each other's wand."

"Yes – now let's find that Madame Skerritt." Hermione-as-Ron strode across to the nearby gate, and unlocked it. Their exit to the street was now clear. "She'd better be able to transform us back – before I get the impulse to strangle her!"

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione stopped in the street and looked at each other with worried faces.

The caravan had gone. Their inquiries, conducted with the neighbouring stall holders, confirmed that the Romany had collected her horse and got it to pull the caravan out of Hogsmeade, along with its owner, in the last hour.

By now, the sky was getting dark. The pupils had to be back in the school before sunset. This rule was being stridently enforced, baring in mind the ongoing threat of Death Eaters roaming around the countryside at night…

"What _exactly_ were you hoping would be achieved with that spell, again, Ron?" Hermione-as-Ron snapped at his companion, as they hurriedly walked back to the main school gate. They had briefly waited until no other pupils were within earshot, before speaking.

"I thought it would enable me to understand you better – and you, me!"

"Be careful of what you wish for, Ron! You've certainly exceeded your limits, this time! Another fine mess you've got me into – as a certain Muggle comedian would put it!"

"Eh? Who…? Look! This wasn't what I thought would happen!" the real Ron retorted in the usual high vocal pitch that Hermione reached whenever she got furious. "I'm sorry – again! But if that bloody woman doesn't come back – then how long will it be, before we revert to normal?"

"No idea! _If_ we change back at all! Well, we'd better go straight to Professor McGonagall - hadn't we?" Hermione-as-Ron snapped back. "Goodness knows how many house points this idiocy of yours will cost us…"

"Er – Hermione…? Before we see McGonagall…"

"_Yes?"_

"You might want to wipe around your mouth. Ron Weasley doesn't wear lipstick," Ron-as-Hermione pointed out.

"Oh! Right…"

"And remember the mascara! I know you only apply a tinsy weeny bit, but..!"

"I get the picture, Ron! I'll wipe it all off…"

"Just as well you're not wearing earrings…"

"_Ron_! Keep quiet – before I decide to strangle _you_, instead of that witch…!"

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

About three-quarters of an hour later, Ron-as-Hermione was sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall – her elbows slumped upon the surface, and her hands pressed against the too-bushy hair behind her ears.

She looked across to Hermione-as-Ron, who was sat besides her – adopting a similar pose, and looking equally as crestfallen.

"Well…," Ron began, still speaking in Hermione's voice. "You're the brainy one. What the hell went wrong in Professor McGonagall's room?"

"I… I don't know," Hermione-as-Ron turned pink in the face. "Like you, whenever I tried to tell her about our predicament, my head throbbed and I began to stutter. That Madame Skerritt has obviously h-h-he… Oh, Merlin! Her spell casting is preventing us from telling anyone of our problem. We can't say the 'j' word – or the 'h' word!"

"McGonagall thought we were a right pair of time-wasting fools!" Ron-as-Hermione cringed; remembering the withering look the Acting Headmistress had given the two tongue-tied pupils, before dismissing them from the office that had been Professor Dumbledore's until his sudden death last spring.

"So, what do we do now, Hermione?"

"For one thing, keep calm! Secondly – don't call me by my real name, whilst in public!" Hermione-as-Ron hissed back. "I know we've got here early, ready for the food to appear – but as soon as our friends and acquaintances come to sit with us, we'll have to be careful. For now, _I_ am effectively Ron Weasley – and _you_ are Hermione Granger! So that means acting out our new roles, and going to different toilets and dormitories than what we're used to…"

"Oh…that's _bloody_ brilliant! I'll have to sleep in a room with the other girls, and listen to the likes of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil gossiping and giggling…"

"…Which means you _cannot _say things out of character for me, _Hermione!" _Hermione-as-Ron gritted his teeth. "For your information, Hermione Granger does not say 'bloody brilliant'…"

"You just did!"

"_Don't _make this harder than it is already! Hermione also does not say that things are 'wicked' or 'cool', just because they are trendy. And we'll have to swap our timetables. We'll also have to teach each other about shaving…"

Ron-as-Hermione tried to hide her reddening face behind her hands, as she thought of the implications.

"And waxing your legs, once you've mastered shaving…," the genuine Hermione began to count up various issues with his fingers and thumbs. "Oh – and amongst many other things, you'll need to look after Crookshanks, of course!"

Hermione-as-Ron was answered by a muffled groan.

"…And you had _better_ not make me look bad in my classes! I have more than you, of course…"

The groan became more pronounced.

"You will need to dress properly, now that you are me – I will teach you how. For one thing, _don't_ hang my blouse over the skirt – tuck it in!" Hermione-as-Ron continued counting off points on his fingers. "Still, if I have to be you, at least that means I'll have more time to go to the Library, and try to find any past listings where people have had their gen-gen-g… Oh, Merlin! Where a wizard or a witch has become someone of the opposite sex, I'm trying to say. Apart from the use of Polyjuice potion, of course!"

"The Room of Requirement…" Ron-as-Hermione lowered her hands and looked up.

"Yes! Good idea. We'll need to have somewhere private, where I can advise you how to adjust to being a girl – and you can help me, now that I'm a boy. We'll have to fill each other in as to what you and Dean, and Seamus, and Neville, have been talking about – and I'll tell you about what to expect from Parvati and the other girls. Lavender just ignores me these days anyway, because of your break-up with her last spring. She seems to blame me…"

Ron-as-Hermione had looked away as the real Hermione wittered on. Suddenly, she interrupted.

"Stop talking like Hermione – and pretend you're me, then! Here come Ginny and Neville. And Luna, too!"

"Ron, Hermione! There you are. We were wondering what you two were doing," Ginny began, as she sat down next to who she thought was her brother.

"Well… We were strolling around the Winter Fair in Hogsmeade, sis…" Hermione-as-Ron answered cautiously.

Ginny raised her eyebrows ever-so-slightly. "Not like you two to forget popping into The Three Broomsticks. I was there, with Neville, for over an hour – and we didn't see you pair."

"We were just having a drink – as friends," Neville quickly put in – in case Ron was going to eye him as another lad chasing Ginny. "And Luna joined us."

"You seem a bit distant, Hermione," Luna declared in her soft, Irish brogue, as she tilted her head to one side, appraising Ron-as-Hermione's expression. "Have Wrackspurts invaded your hair?"

"Luna, don't be ridiculous!" But it was Hermione-as-Ron who glared at the eccentric Ravenclaw pupil. "There's nothing wrong with m… - I mean…Hermione's hair. It looks great!"

Luna's wide, silver-grey eyes blinked as she turned to address 'Ron'. "Well, Wrackspurts like to invade anywhere that is warm and fuzzy – hair, as well as people's heads…."

She was interrupted as the evening meal materialised on the four house tables.

"Great!" Ron-as-Hermione exclaimed, her mood brightening up, as she beat the others to serving out the food. "Roast chicken and pork leftovers from dinner, hard-boiled eggs, savoury snacks, and… Er, er, why are you looking at me like that, guys?"

"Well, it's the first time I've known you to beat Ron to the food, Hermione," Neville observed. "You must be hungry!"

"Um, yes… I've got a fair appetite at the moment…"

Hermione-as-Ron suddenly snatched away the gherkins that had just been added to 'Hermione's' plate. "You don't like gherkins, _'Mione,_" he whispered. "You told me that – _remember?"_

"Did I…? Oh yeah. I mean… Yes!" Ron-as-Hermione took in 'Ron's' meaningful stare, and fell silent.

Ginny, Luna, and Neville all glanced at each other - puzzled by the exchange they had just witnessed.

"Well - I'd better get to the Ravenclaw table. I'll see you all tomorrow," Luna announced brightly, before walking off.

The remainder of the pupils were now swarming into the Great Hall and seating themselves at their house tables. Ginny and Neville sat opposite Ron and Hermione, and were soon joined by other seventh-year Gryffindor – Dean Thomas, Seamus McFinnigan, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and other girls – plus the younger boys and girls.

After their initial gaffs, Ron and Hermione tried to say, and do, as little as possible that would give them away during the meal. After the pair left, Ginny frowned and turned to Neville.

"The two of them were arguing, yesterday. Now they seem to be very much buddies again. Though I'm surprised Ron didn't eat those gherkins. He gobbles them up at home…"

Neville shrugged and smiled. "It's about time those two seriously got together. Wonder if Ron will ask Hermione to accompany him to the Ball, next Saturday? Talking of which… Who are you going with, Gin? Are you hoping that Harry will be back in time from whatever he needs to do…?"

Ginny gave a wistful sigh. "I can't be dating him. Not for real. Not whilst he's still a target for You-Know-Who…"

"But we're safe in Hogwarts! Now that Malfoy's gone – and the Vanishing Cabinet has been dealt with…" Neville countered.

"Who's to say that Lord…Thingy…hasn't still got sympathetic spies here?" Ginny took a bite of her celery stick as Neville followed her gaze towards the Slytherin table, where the seventh-year Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle were smirking and talking between themselves. The serious-looking Blaise Zabini was also involved in the conversation.

"Right… But what if Harry doesn't come to the dance? I mean, I hope he's alright – and he does come back in time… Who takes you to the Ball, Ginny?"

She shrugged. "Ron and I are supposed to be going to our family reunion, at home – now that Percy's reconciled with us!"

"Ohh…"

Ginny gave Neville a sad smile. "You know, Neville… There's a friendly six-year Hufflepuff girl in my Herbology class, who I think you'll like to meet. She's hoping to find someone to go to the Ball with – though she's a tad shy."

"Oh? There – there is?"

"Yes. Her name's Charlotte Greenway…"

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Elsewhere, Ron and Hermione were in the Room of Requirement, having taken pains to make sure they were alone.

En route, they had fetched their satchels and notebooks from each other's dormitories. Ron had found it disconcerting to enter the girls' chamber in the guise of Hermione, and search through Hermione's belongings – knowing that the genuine Hermione was having to do the same with Ron's items…

Now, as they sat down on two chairs provided by the Room, Ron-as-Hermione pulled a face and rubbed her stomach.

"What's wrong with you, Ron?"

"I ate too much," the real Ron confessed sheepishly to the real Hermione.

"As you often do, Ron! The difference this time is that you have a smaller stomach, now that you are a girl. Your body has space set aside for your…lady bits…, lower down."

"Ahhh…"

"Still, I guess your appetite will get less from now on – but I'll write down a list of the foods I don't like, so that you don't arouse other people's attentions again. And you should do the same…"

"You were eating a lot yourself!" Ron-as-Hermione retorted.

"Yes, I was, wasn't I? I did feel…famished…- what with having a boy's appetite."

"Ah-hah!" The real Ron grinned. "Now you're getting the idea what it's like to be a boy! To be me!"

"Oh, shut up. Now, you'll have to read my notes on all of my classes for the last week – including potions. And I'll have to read yours…" Hermione-as-Ron got out his existing timetable and handed it over to his friend. Ron-as-Hermione's heart sank, as she saw the number of subjects she had to read up on – and she wondered how she was going to even pretend to be as clever as the original Hermione…

"Is there anything else I need to know – besides leg-shaving, applying make-up, and looking after Crookshanks?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Hermione-as-Ron pondered on that. "Oh, yes! Of course…"

"Yes…?"

"My period's due this week. Er, _your _period's due…"

"_What!"_

"Well, you wanted to understand girls, Ron! Like I said before, you should be careful of what you wish for… And this is assuming you've inherited my body's female biorhythms. Now don't panic! What you need is in my bottom drawer, next to my bed. _Don't _open the drawer above that – it's got Christmas presents in it…"

"You mean that for three days…!"

"Four, actually – in my case. Sometimes. But yes, Ron! Now you'll get to know how a lady feels at 'that time of the month'. Still, it won't get any worse than that…"

Ron-as-Hermione perked up at that remark. She tried to suppress a grin, as she handed the timetable of the real Ron Weasley to Hermione-as-Ron. "Oh no? Think again, 'Mione. Take a look at my late Tuesday afternoon timeslot."

The real Hermione took the timetable and read aloud. "Extra Team Quidditch practice… _Quidditch_! Oh, nooooo!" He cringed and dropped the timetable, before burying his head between his hands. "I _hate _flying. You know that! You rotter, Ron!"

Ron-as-Hermione took a good look at her friend, and then suddenly broke out into a fit of feminine laughter.

"_Urrgghh! _You're _giggling_, Ron! Stop it!"

"Hehehe! Con-considering I might ha-have a per-period this week, I – hehehe – need something to laugh about! It's just good to know I have at least one – hehehe – one big advantage over you! Hey…!" Ron widened her eyes, as a sudden thought struck her. "That j-j-j… _agghh!_ That spell might be stopping us telling others about our, erm, situation. But how 'bout I write it down on parchment?"

"Ooh! Why didn't I think of that?" Hermione-as-Ron got onto the floor, rolled out some parchment from Ron's satchel, and inked the quill. He started to write – then faltered. His brows knitted together and his jaw clenched, in pain.

Ron-as-Hermione sighed and knelt down besides her companion, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Don't tell me. Another headache?" She glanced at Hermione-as-Ron's writing. It was much the same as Hermione's writing had been, prior to the transformation. The writing read: 'Help us, please! We have been he…h…h…, cur…cu…cu, and are in the wrong bo…b…b…'

The genuine Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry. I really did try."

Ron-as-Hermione threw her hands up into the air. "Oh, great! So we're stuffed! What are we going to tell Harry when he gets back?"

"Well, with that j-j-j - _spell - _making us stutter we _can't_ tell him anything. Can we?" Hermione snapped back. "Unless you want to sound like Arkwright from 'Open All Hours', or even like Duffy Duck!"

"Eh? Who…? What…?"

"Oh, forget it! You wizard families can be so _clueless_ about the Muggle world! Mind you, it does prove you _can _survive growing up without TV – even in this country – I suppose…"

"Hahahahaha!"

Hermione-as-Ron suddenly halted his tirade, upon hearing the laughter.

Feeling a chill run through them, the transposed witch and wizard spun round to see Madame Skerritt standing in the room, just yards away. She was dressed in the same manner as during their last encounter – and was regarding them with a look of gleeful enjoyment.

Ron-as-Hermione pulled out Ron's wand from behind the belt of her jeans, and aimed.

"Turn us back, you…_witch_!"

The Romany woman just gave the teenagers a wide, thin-lipped smile. "Make me," she responded.

"_Levicorpus!"_ Ron-as-Hermione called out. But the spell, meant to hoist the witch into the air by her ankle, failed to touch her. In fact, the spell just zipped through the trader.

"I'm not really here, young man. Or rather, I should say, young _lady_. This is my astral body! I just decided to make myself known to you. To torment you further. I've been watching you two at the Great Hall, you should know! Seeing the bemusement on the faces of your friends was most pleasing…"

"_Who_ are you?" Hermione-as-Ron challenged the astral image.

"Madame C Skerritt, of course! In a _random _way of speaking. And I want you two to be aware… The jinx cannot be revoked by me, now! But don't worry – there is a way out. You've just got to be honest with each other, and get your heads together, haha…! And once you've done that – then I'll go away, and never trouble you again. Otherwise, if you are still stuck as each other by Christmas Day – then the real Hermione can look forward to an ongoing life as a man – and Ron will experience life as a woman! Until then, I'll be watching you both from time to time – _not_ that you will see me! You pair are providing me with the best entertainment I've had in…ages!"

"How…? How can you get in _here?_ How did you get into the castle, at all!" Hermione-as-Ron protested.

"Oh, I am far more than you think, young _wizard_." Madame Skerritt guffawed. She raised a hand and waved. Her image slowly began to fade. "Bye bye, for now! I might see you back to normal by Christmas Day. Of course, if you haven't followed my advice by then, you'll be stuck with your new forms…"

"Stop! Come back!" Ron-as-Hermione shrieked. But her words were met by empty air.

Silence fell in the high-ceiling room.

"Well…" The real Hermione checked Ron's watch on his own wrist. "We'll have to head back to Gryffindor tower before long, Ron. We have got to be prepared for tomorrow."

"…And the day after… And the day after that… And… Did you _hear_ her? If we don't discover her get-out clause, we're going to be like this _for the rest of our lives!"_

Hermione-as-Ron sighed. "Yes, I heard her. Let's take one day at a time. Okay, Ron?"

"All right, then…" Ron sniffed. "Let's do that."

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

_Author's note: this chapter is named after the 'Buffy The Vampire Slayer' episode, where Xander wish for a love spell to be cast upon Cordelia backfires hilariously. The title seemed fitting for this chapter!_

_Also, if anyone is wondering who Charlotte Greenway is, she's a character of my own creation, who hooks up with Neville in 'Harry Potter & The Lycanthrope Legacy', which in this Potterverse, starts six months after this story._


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: For those of you getting confused by who is saying what, and to whom:

Non-speech text – Ron, Ron-as-Hermione, and 'Hermione' = the real Ron;

Hermione, Hermione-as-Ron, and 'Ron' = the real Hermione.

Speech text – _"Ron"(note the italics!)_ = likely to be Ron addressing Hermione;

"_Hermione"_ = likely to be Hermione addressing Ron.

Also "Sor-ry" is likely to be Hermione-as-Ron apologising.

Hope that helps! Thanks to my lovely reviewers. If you like to read and review 'Hermione & The Dementor Dilemma', I'd be very grateful. Reviews-wise that comedy story has been looking a little lonely…

**Chapter Three**

**The Role Of A Lifetime?**

Due to Monday being a busy day for both of them, Ron and Hermione did not get back to the Room of Requirement until an hour before the school's evening meal.

They spent much of that time preparing the real Hermione for Quidditch practice. Ron-as-Hermione had brought along Ron's broomstick. And with her acting as instructor, she got Hermione-as-Ron to straddle it and lift off into the air - before slowly turning first one way, then the other. The unwilling rider, meanwhile, wore a tight expression on 'Ron's' face – trying not to show any fear – as they moved onto making the broom complete a few lazy circular laps around the chamber. Hermione-as-Ron blanched, and nearly lost his grip, as the broom started to make some sharp turns at the corner, to avoid crashing into the stone walls.

"Th-that's e-enough for now - thanks, Ron," the real Hermione declared as he jumped down from the still-hovering broom, at the end of the lesson.

"Hey – you did fine, Hermione! But we need to make you look like a Quidditch captain by the end of tomorrow."

"No pressure there, then!" Hermione-as-Ron's face turned pale, and he made a noise.

The real Ron sighed. " 'Mione…"

"Yes, Ron?"

"Ron Weasley doesn't have the best of nerves when it comes to a Quidditch match – or even a practice session. But he never whimpers at the thought of one."

"Sor-ry…!" Hermione-as-Ron swallowed and tried to think to what issues they had to tackle next. "Well then, Ron. How did your first evening as a girl, go?"

"I felt as though I was a spy in enemy territory!" the real Ron muttered darkly. "And you?"

Hermione-as-Ron nodded. "Me, too. Seamus and Dean are a noisy pair, bleating on about Muggle football and girls! And Dean… He seriously needs to get a girlfriend."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well… The Muggle magazine he gets delivered…."

"What? It doesn't have lewd pictures of skimpy-clad girls – does it?" Ron-as-Hermione frowned.

"Er, no… It's a magazine on building model railways. Honestly! As if he's got time to think about that…" Hermione-as-Ron voiced his disapproval. "Anyway Ron, what did you do, last night - as 'me'?"

Ron-as-Hermione hesitated. Her face turned slightly red.

"Er… Well… When I had the bathroom to myself, I…"

"…gave yourself a good checking over?" Hermione-as-Ron ventured, narrowing his eyes meaningfully.

"Yeah. Had to make sure that everything was in place and felt right – including my…"

"Yes? Go on, Ronald…"

"Er, my wobbly bits…."

"_Wobbly?"_

"Don't shout at me! I bet you looked over your new form, too!"

Hermione–as-Ron opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked away for a moment – but the real Ron got her answer, upon seeing his friend's cheeks glow a shade pinker.

"Did you _like _what you saw of your new body?" Hermione-as-Ron kept up the pressure on the real Ron.

"Um. Yeah, I guess. I've got smooth, hairless legs, now – and I've lost weight…"

"And I have put it on - thanks to you over-eating in the past, Ron! I've acquired - urgh! -_other_…_wobbly…_bits, now. Including your stomach!"

"Ha-ha! Sorry, 'Mione. Anyway, I've gained a nice, slender body … Um, _Hermione Granger_ has a nice, slender figure!"

Hermione-as-Ron slowly nodded, satisfied. Then he studied the real Ron's expression. "So, what aren't you telling me, Ron?" he pressed his friend.

Ron-as-Hermione bit her lip. "Nightdresses…"

"What about my nightdresses?"

"Not only have I got to wear bras and knickers – and makeup – my nights are now plagued by the thought of wearing bright pink and lemon-coloured nightdresses!" Ron protested. "Do you glow at night?"

"No! And what about me? Your pyjamas are Chudley Cannons logo-branded, no less! And the elbows are wearing out! And your legs are hairy! Your feet, too – for that matter!"

"Well, it's cold weather, innit? So I make sure my legs are warm… Or rather I _did_. I'll be shaving my new legs…"

Silence fell between them. Ron-as-Hermione nervously ran a hand through her curly hair. Then she decided to speak up.

"There's another thing you didn't tell me about…"

"Ohhh… Now what?"

"Your teddy," Ron-as-Hermione retorted.

"_Hahahhaha….!"_

A woman's laughter rang around the Room of Requirement, startling the two teenagers. They whipped round, wands at the ready. But there was no one else to be seen.

"Who…? Oh…_bother!_ It's _her_ again, watching us – as she said she would!" Hermione-as-Ron fumed.

Ron-as-Hermione put her hands on her hips, and called out. "For the information of anyone listening, I was referring to Hermione's _teddy bear!"_

"Ah…!" The face of the genuine Hermione flushed. "I forgot to tell you about Rupert…"

"_Rupert! _What kind of name is that?"

"Rupert the Bear! I grew up on Rupert the Bear stories…!"

The real Ron looked bewildered. "Eh? Who…?"

"_Aagghh! Not again!_ Anyway – take care of my little bear, Ron! Crookshanks likes to play with him sometimes – and he even snatches Rupert off from my bed, at night. That's why he looks a bit battered. Rupert I mean – not Crookshanks…"

Ron-as-Hermione rolled her eyes, and huffed. "Let's not waste time, 'Mione! We've got our lessons to exchange advice on. Then we need to teach each how to shave. Your face is okay at the moment, but when your new hormones kick in…"

Hermione-as-Ron gave the genuine Ron a curious look.

"Do I really come across like that?" he asked.

"As what?"

"Bossy. Like a little… Well, a little madam."

"Yes, you do, sometimes, Hermione!"

The real Hermione stared at the floor for a moment and shuffled his feet. Then he raised his eyes. "I'm sorry for that, Ron. For sometimes being hard on you in the past. But I only would've had your best interests at heart."

"Such as shooting those birds at me, when I was with Lavender!"

"No! Look – I apologise for that, too. But…"

"Why did you do that?" Ron demanded.

"Because you were being such a fool by acting like a dog – with your public snogging of Lavender!"

"Well – Cormac McLaggen was eyeing you up, and you liked it. Or so it seemed!"

"And you slobbered over Lavender, to get at me?" Hermione-as-Ron raised his voice.

"No!" Ron shrieked. "I wanted to be _kissing_ you! But you didn't seem interested. Whereas Lavender was…" She trailed off. "Well – there you are! I've finally said it. When everything's alright between us, Hermione, I really like you. A lot." She gave a humourless laugh. "I couldn't say it as a boy. It's taken becoming a girl – becoming _you_ – to finally get it out!"

Hermione-as-Ron was silent for some moments. Finally, he spoke. His voice was calm, and soft.

"Thanks, Ron. I care about you, too! You know that. But right now, we need to work together to keep up each other's appearances, so to speak. And also try to work out how to undo this j-j-j… Oh, this _sphinx_!"

"Sphinx?" Ron raised her eyebrows.

"Well – we can't say the 'j' word, can we? Not whilst we're under that witch's spell. But apparently we can say a word that rhymes!"

"There's another matter to think of!" Ron snapped her fingers. "I'll have to owl to my family that I'll stay at Hogwarts for Christmas!"

"What if we both went to the Burrow…?"

"Someone – probably Mum - will spot that you're not the real Ron! I'll have to tell Ginny… Er, _you_ will have to tell Ginny that we're both staying here. She was looking forward to the Ball, anyway – so she'll have an excuse to remain at Hogwarts, if Ron does too."

"Good thinking. I'd better owl my parents and apologise for not coming home… Wait! The Ball! Have you got a partner, Ron?"

"Er, no… I was actually wondering if you would do me the honour…"

"We'll have to go together, of course – given our joint predicament!" Hermione-as-Ron turned and paced on the spot – not quite hearing Ron had just said. "Only I'll have to learn how to prepare for the Ball as a young man. I've got a gorgeous dress on order, ready for the occasion – just in case we were going to the Dance. Of course, _you_ will have to wear it now – so you'll have to get into the role of being me! Don't make me look bad, will you now? No tripping over or anything else I wouldn't do! You'll be pleased to hear I _hate_ high heel shoes…"

Ron-as-Hermione slapped a slim hand against her forehead, in despair.

"Just shot me down with a Killing Curse, now – why don't you?" she muttered under her breath.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Ron-as-Hermione spent another late evening being cautious by not speaking much with Parvati and the other seventh-year Gryffindor girls in their dormitory (Lavender was still not communicating socially with 'Hermione'). Ron-as-Hermione spent some time in the dormitory bathroom to have her first session at leg-shaving, and see to other aspects of her personal hygiene – having been clued up by the real Hermione.

As Ron cleared herself up and got ready to put on the rose-coloured nightgown, she stopped for a moment – staring at her nude reflection.

_Well, I wondered what 'Mione looked like, underneath… And now I know. She's nice and slender. Good looking skin. Firm hips and thighs. Nothing too big, here…_

Once again, Ron felt the front of her groin. Only two days ago, there would have been something there. It was the starkest physical reminder of what the jinx – the curse - had cost the old Ron. Now her altered reproductive organs were inside of her.

_We have until Christmas Day to get ourselves out of the mess I've caused! And if we don't? I guess I'll have to accept my future as the new Hermione. The role of a lifetime… Then there's the fact I'll have to treat 'Mione's Muggle parents as my own. If we survive Voldie and his scummy followers, that is…_

"Hello! Have you finished, Hermione? I need the loo!" Lavender Brown's simpering voice was muffled by the door.

"Oh! Just a minute." Ron glanced in the mirror once more, before hurriedly getting dressed for bed.

_That hairdo's annoying me… How did Hermione hear with all that hair over her ears?_

_And I still think her legs are skinny!_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Meanwhile, Hermione-as-Ron was busy in the bathroom for the seventh-year Gryffindor boys.

_Right then… My first attempt at face-shaving as a young man! Don't rush this, Hermione!_

"Ouch!"

Five minutes later.

"Ouch!"

_Go carefully… It's a new blade, so it will be sharp. God! Why do boys have such thick stubble? Or could it be that Ron's shaving foam is rubbish…?_

Another ten minutes passed.

"Ouch!"

_Nearly done… Try to bleed too much! Steady hand, now… Just tidy up that chin…_

"AAAGGGHHH!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

**Scarlet Faces And Lavender Paces**

Tuesday morning came. Along with the other Gryffindor pupils, Ron and Hermione got dressed as appropriate to their new genders, and came down to the common room. Ron, however, brought along Crookshanks with her as she caught up with Hermione-as-Ron, who – even at this time – was busy re-writing Ron's scrawled notes from his Charms class of last week, into a more legible form.

"Here, _Ron!_ Look after him, will you? Thanks!"

The genuine Hermione looked up, startled, as the cat – who had been placed on the table before him – sniffed and suddenly leapt upon Hermione-as-Ron, snuggling himself against the one he sensed to be his real owner, despite the confusing change of appearance.

"Oh! Hello there, kitty!" Hermione-as-Ron stroked his beloved pet – then turned to face the real Ron. "Ahhh…" He trailed off, seeing the claw-cut on the cheek of 'Hermione'. His friend also bore scratches along the backs of her hands.

"He did it whilst I was feeding him, this morning!" Ron-as-Hermione muttered under her breath. "Look's like Crookshanks is not only good at smelling a rat-that's-not-really-a-rat – he's able to work out when someone else is wearing his mistress's clothes!"

"Oooops…!" Hermione-as-Ron paused - then continued to stroke the feline marauder, making him purr. "Um. You'd better give me his basket and other items, then!"

"Will do. Gladly! Erm…" The real Ron looked at the face of the false Ron. Hermione bore a few shaving cuts around his jaw line.

Hermione-as-Ron shook his head slightly as he whispered. "First shave. I'll cast _another_ healing spell on them, later."

"Okay… I'll just fetch that basket." Ron tried not to smile.

Elsewhere in the common room, whilst chatting to another Gryffindor girl of her own year, Ginny saw 'Hermione' come back and hand over her cat's belongings to 'Ron'. Crookshanks, meanwhile, was being fussed over by her 'brother'.

Puzzled, Ginny made her way downstairs to breakfast in the Great Hall.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Ginny, Neville, and Luna were all talking together, in the wide hallway outside the Great Hall, when Ron and Hermione caught up with them. Just as they were about to walk through the doorway as a group, a snide-sounding voice spoke up.

"Nice hair, Granger! Got any birds nesting there, yet?"

It took Ron a moment to realise that it was actually _her_ who was being insulted.

The group of five stopped, and turned round. The dark, shoulder-length haired, sour-faced Pansy Parkinson was walking by with a grinning Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. The Slytherin girl laughed back at Hermione and Ron – then her group turned left past the open doors of the Great Hall.

Ron saw the real Hermione flush red with indignation and whip out the wand that belonged to Hermione. Quickly, Ron fought back her own anger, and reached out to stay her friend's hand. A look passed between them. There was a pause – then Hermione-as-Ron swallowed back his anger, and tucked the wand back in its place behind his belt.

"It's not worth getting worked up over, Ron." Neville broke the tension. "Those morons daren't do much out of order – now that Malfoy's still at large, along with Snape."

"No…, you're right, Neville." Ron-as-Hermione forced a fleeting smile. She glanced at the other girls in their group. Ginny looked unhappy, and Luna looked unperturbed – having experienced plenty of mickey-taking during her time at Hogwarts.

"Anyway – to breakfast," Hermione-as-Ron declared, feeling decidedly peckish.

They entered the Great Hall, only to suddenly stop.

Ginny was the first to react. A wide smile lit up her face, and she ran forward with abandon towards the right side of the Gryffindor table, where Harry Potter (in his school robes) was sat, eating his porridge. He looked up upon hearing the oncoming rush of footsteps, and grinned at seeing the delighted expressions of Ginny, Luna, 'Ron', 'Hermione', and Neville – who came over to him, in that order.

Ginny and Harry hugged and kissed each other on the cheek, still harbouring feelings for each other, despite having their relationship on hold whilst Voldemort was still a danger to them all. Luna hurried over to Harry and surprised him by also giving him a peck on the cheek.

"It's good to see you looking well, Harry," she explained in her dreamy voice, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "We never know if there'll be a time when you _won't _be able to come back to us from your excursions. But we still have faith in you."

He smiled, and glanced at Ginny – checking to see how she felt about Luna's kiss.

"Don't mind me, Harry." She grinned. "We're all friends, here! A peck on the cheek for Luna or Hermione won't upset me."

Feeling a tad embarrassed as he became aware of more of the pupils taking notice of his actions, Harry kissed Luna on the cheek as they hugged. Then, ignoring the wolf-whistles from Zachery Smith of Hufflepuff, and some of the Ravenclaw boys, Luna sat down at the Ravenclaw table, just a yard or two away. She continued to face, and watch, her friends.

Hermione-as-Ron rushed forward with delight, and was about to hug Harry – when he stopped, remembering whose face he was presenting to the world. Somewhat awkwardly, he managed to change his open arms into a one-handed pat on Harry's shoulder.

"Welcome back…, mate!" Hermione hoped his act was convincing enough.

"Glad to see you're back in one piece!" Ron-as-Hermione fought down her nerves - then ran over to Harry, hugging him. Her disconcertion then increased, as Harry hugged her back and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm certainly glad to see you guys, again!" Harry paused and saw the look of panic in his friend's eyes. "Something wrong, Hermione? As Ginny says, it's just a peck on the cheek!"

"Oh, sorry mate…" Forcing herself, Ron pursed her lips and gave Harry a kiss on his bared cheek, then looked down – trying to hide her embarrassed expression.

Harry had not noticed this. He had already turned his attention to Neville, who was firmly shaking his hand.

But, unseen by either Ron or Hermione, Ginny and Luna gave each other a sharp look. Their faces reflected their surprise and confusion at what they thought they had just observed and heard…

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

The day marched on. Hermione-as-Ron tried to chicken out of his Quidditch pitch session – but an astonished Harry wouldn't hear of it. Ron-as-Hermione made the effort to get over to the pitch, to support and advise 'Ron', as the Gryffindor team got together and took to the air on their broomsticks, before practicing their moves. Trying to remember the real Ron's instructions, Hermione-as-Ron put Harry, Ginny, and the rest of the team through their exercises.

Things started to go downhill as soon as the first of the Chasers took her first shots at the goal hoops that 'Ron' was defending.

Hermione-as-Ron was struggling to even keep his eyes open, as he rose and moved sideways from goal to goal. He was too slow to block the first five goals – all delivered by the first Chaser.

The second Chaser moved into position, and tossed the Quaffle at the Keeper. Hermione-as-Ron tried to save it – and indeed managed to deflect it. The stretch, however, caused him to tilt ninety degrees in the air – and lose his 'seat' in the process.

On the seats of the Gryffindor stand, Ron-as-Hermione cringed and covered her face – not daring to look - as her counterpart screamed.

After the false Ron managed – with some effort - to get back upright upon his broom, he kept both hands firmly on the wood and gripped tightly, to stop them from shaking.

_Get on with it!_ He told himself.

"Next shot!" 'Ron' yelled at the concerned-looking Chaser.

The nightmare went on. Hermione-as-Ron did manage to save one of Ginny's goals – after he accidently blocked it with his head. He was lucky not to lose his grip on the broomstick a second time. He still yelled out a cry of protest.

However, Hermione-as-Ron had let in thirteen of the fifteen shots at goal. The Chasers were continuing to be on form, the real Ron managed to note…

After the session ended, Harry and the Chasers were furious with 'Ron'. For her part, after making sure that her 'brother' was all right after his injury, Ginny was watching Hermione-as-Ron carefully. Her mood was silent and sullen.

As soon as he could, 'Ron' got changed, and headed back to the castle with Ron-as-Hermione. The former had his head bowed down, and the real Ron saw that Hermione was shaking as he walked slowly onwards, muttering.

"I'm not doing that again! I am not going to go through _that_ again…!"

"Um, Hermione….? I'm glad you hung on! That last save was inspired…" Ron kept her voice low.

"It wasn't planned! That bonk to my head could've been serious!" Hermione snapped back, in Ron's voice. "I'm _definitely_ _not_ doing Quidditch again!"

"Well, there's no more practice sessions until the new year, now. So, hopefully, by then you'll be _you_ again – and I'll…"

"And what if we're _not?_" Hermione-as-Ron yelled, halting on the spot and turning to glare at the genuine Ron with a face that was turning scarlet.

Ron-as-Hermione ran a hand through her too-curly locks, in exasperation. "Then there's nothing else for it, is there? Ron Weasley will have to step down as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain!"

"I was rather thinking of more important issues than that, Ron! You will have to know everything about my home life, in order to pass yourself off as me, to my parents! You'll have to push yourself hard to get the exam grades Hermione Jean Granger was expected to achieve. Then there's the rather big issue of fighting You-Know-Who and his minions, whilst we're unable to explain to our friends that we've got an identity crises – because we were both j-j-j…j-j-j…_minxed!_"

"Keep your voice down!" Ron-as-Hermione glanced around them, grateful that they were alone and that the daylight was fading. She grabbed her friend's hand, and pulled him towards the castle. But Hermione was stronger than her now, and he pulled himself free – before striding off, alone, towards the main school building.

Ron sighed, and ran to keep up. The two of them headed inside towards the nearest stairwell that possessed the shifting stairs.

"Look! I'm sorry I've got us into this situation. You know that, 'Mi-… _Ron_! Where are you going, anyway?"

Hermione-as-Ron stopped, and glared back as he reached the first turn of the staircase. "I need to spend some time alone! Then I need to think about what we have to do, to get _our lives_ back on track!" And with that, 'Ron' stormed upstairs.

'Hermione' sighed once more, and rolled her eyes.

_Great! Just great! What do I do, now…?_

Ron soon got her answer, as she abruptly experienced a stomach cramp. She winced – feeling rather tender, lower down…

"Ohh!"

Merlin! Hermione had told her what to expect… Now it was time to change pads. Luckily, she had them in a pocket of her school robes.

Biting her lip against the pain, Ron-as-Hermione headed for the nearest girl's toilets. As she ran, Ron pulled out the real Hermione's 'The Pretty Witch' pouch, which contained her magically-shrunken feminine accessories…

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

At the same time, Hermione-as-Ron stormed off towards the Gryffindor tower. He had to feed Crookshanks – and his purring, whilst cuddling him before the common room fireplace always helped the genuine Hermione to unwind. Still, he would still have to deal with Harry, who – judging from his expression at the Quidditch pitch – was furious with the poor Keeper performance of 'Ron' …

"Yikes! Look where you're walking, Ron!"

"Wha…?" Hermione-as-Ron suddenly froze rigid. With his mind distracted, he had literally bumped into Lavender Brown on one of the landings in-between the occasionally-shifting staircases. The seventh-year Gryffindor girl had her blond-brown hair tied back with a pink bow.

"Sor-ry…" Hermione stepped aside, and was about to head up the next flight of steps – but Lavender surprised him by laying a firm hand on his wrist.

"Don't go, Ron! I've…, I've been putting this off for far too long." Her voice trembled.

_Oh, noooo…! Just what I need!_

_For heaven's sake, Hermione!_ He scolded himself. _Grow some balls, and deal with Lavender – here and now!_

_Oh, right… I already achieved that first objective on Sunday, didn't I…?_

"Put-putting off what?" Hermione-as-Ron forced himself to face Lavender, who was now pacing around back and forth across the landing.

"I could hear you and Hermione arguing – again." Lavender's nose twitched. "I was on those stairs, next flight up – when I stopped to listen to you pair… What _is_ it between you two? You bicker – yet you're never apart for long. What does Hermione have that I don't?"

_Brains for starters…_, the cynical part of Hermione's mind silently responded. _And I don't cover the outside of my school books in various shades of pastel-coloured papers, and decorate them with happy faces of mice, sheep, and sunflowers…_

_And, from what Harry told me, you _still_ giggle every time Ron mentions the planet Uranus in Divination class…_

"Um… Well, yes. Hermione… She's more than just bright, you should know. She's proved herself to be a very loyal and resourceful friend! You should try speaking with her. Let her know, you're not angry with her, after that silliness with Ro…- I mean that affair with ME, last year. You can make it your New Year's Resolution, if you like…"

"_Silliness?" _Lavender looked indignant. She stopped pacing for a moment. "Ron! We were happy together – experiencing first love! You were a good kisser, too…"

_Was he, now?_ Suddenly, Hermione had no wish to escape from Lavender Brown. The conversation was becoming quite interesting…

"Er, Lavender… Look. You were great in the kissing department, too! But what else did we actually _do_? What did we talk about, to bring us together?"

"We both realised we were two lonely souls, wanting to warm each other with our burning passions!"

Hermione-as-Ron felt his jaw tremble, as he tried not to gnash his teeth any more than he needed to. A part of him idly wondered how much physical damage Lavender would sustain if she would – for whatever reason - go over the banister besides them, right now…

_This is Lavender, we're talking about here! Her bloodstains on the floor would probably make a pretty pattern…_

"And…? And what else did we discover we had in common, Lavender?"

The gormless girl looked startled. "Well – we didn't get round to that, did we? We _would have_, after you were poisoned, Won-Won – if you hadn't breathed Hermione's name, when you were half-conscious in the Hospital Wing!" Lavender started walking around the small landing again, wringing her hands.

_Aaaggghhh! Don't call me Won-Won… Wait…! Wait! She's confirmed what I thought Ron said, after all!_

_But what now? How do I deal with a girl, who in Astrology class thought a Libran was somebody who looked after loaned-out books…?_

"Look! What is it you want, Lavender? Um…, we…can't go back to how…we were! You are right – we were lonely. There was a physical attraction between us. But that was all there was…! Just…find yourself a good boy who will be your loyal and worthy friend, first of all. Then let you and…whoever it is…um, connect on every level. And – and take it from there." Hermione-as-Ron bit his lip, feeling somewhat inadequate.

"I don't know who would fit the bill… And I _so_ want to go to this ball!" Lavender wailed, trying to regain her composure. She stopped still and looked 'Ron' in the eye once more.

"And what about you and Hermione? Do you 'connect on every level'?"

"Um, no…but…, but we're working on it," Hermione-as-Ron admitted. "Some relationships require more effort than others – but we still have to believe they're worth it. If we didn't try, we would never develop as individuals, would we…?" Hermione paused. "Isn't there anyone who would want to ask you to the Ball? In fact…, why don't you show some Gryffindor spirit, and _you_ do the asking?"

Lavender's expression brightened a little. "Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw! He sits next to me in two of my classes. He seems happy when he talks with me! Thank you, Won-Won! I'm glad we're talking again! You've given me something to think about…"

"You're welcome." Hermione-as-Ron turned round and allowed his forced smile to drop before it could crack, after that second 'Won-Won'. He raced up each flight of stairs before they could start shifting again. Meanwhile, Lavender headed down, with a renewed spring in her step…

Unknown to either of them, however, someone else had stopped along the fourth-floor corridor that led to the landing where the two Gryffindors had been talking. Somebody who had pressed themselves against the wall in their eavesdropping, and was now thinking less than honourable thoughts…

_Author's note: The referred-to scene of a half-awake Ron calling out Hermione's name, after his poisoning, is taken from the film version of 'The Half-Blood Prince'. The ending of the Ron-Lavender affair seemed more succinct and memorable on screen, than in the book. Hence its use here!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I'm often getting the words 'funny' and hilarious' in my feedback. But you can help me further as an author by being more specific about which conversations and situations in this tale tickle your funny bones? Also, please read and review my other stories! Thanks._

**Chapter Five:**

**Scares, Skerritt, And Secrets**

Flushing the toilet, Ron-as-Hermione made sure her skirt was straightened and free of creases, before exiting the cubicle and heading over to the taps to wash her hands.

_Blasted cramps! And this is what 'Mione has to put up with every lunar month? No wonder she gets so short-tempered with me and Harry, sometimes…_

_This _whole_ situation is just…mental!_

The door leading back to the school corridor swung open, then back to again. Ron looked in the mirror before her, and saw Ginny – dressed in her school robes once more. Ron's smile faded and she gulped, as she saw the other girl's face. That familiar expression meant trouble…

Ginny quickly looked over the toilets, checking the vacant markers on the cubicle doors. Satisfied that they were alone, Ginny quickly ran back to the exit door, and slammed her weight against it – just beating Ron-as-Hermione who had finished drying her hands.

"Why the rush, Hermione?" Ginny glared at the other Gryffindor girl, with a determined glint in her eyes.

"You what…?" Ron paused, and tried to make herself sound more like Hermione. "Er… I've a lot of work to do! I've got no time to play games, Ginny…"

"Seems like you've got time to play with Ron."

"Wh-wh-_what!_ Come again?"

"You and him have been spending a lot of time together lately – more so than usual. And it's clear that something is going on between you pair – you are both beginning to act, even sound, like one another!"

"Right… I see… And you don't approve…?"

"What you and Ron do, in private, isn't my business, Hermione. Except when it affects Ron's performance at Quidditch so much that he can't defend the goals for Honeydukes toffee! It was embarrassing to watch…"

_You're telling me…!_

"Look… Ginny! I've-I've been trying to get Ron up to speed with his coursework! With that, and Christmas coming, and…and our concerns 'bout Harry and the oncoming activities of the Death Eaters… The Quidditch session just got Ron's nerves worked up!"

Ginny kept her stern gaze on 'Hermione's' face. "Harry's not happy with Ron, you should know!"

Ron-as-Hermione sighed. "Then Ron and I will get together and explain things to Harry."

"Yes, that would be a good idea." Ginny paused, then spoke again. "Tell me this, Hermione. Are…? Are you and my brother finally becoming an item? You've had your eyes on him for some time, haven't you?"

_Has she now…?_

Was that a look of hope on Ginny's face? Ron felt her face turn red, and she gave a tiny cough. "Er… It's too early to say, sis…-_Ginny!_ But, yes. I think we're understanding each other better, now."

Ginny visibly relaxed, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a grin. "I hope you can get him to be more aware and appreciative of other people's feelings. For what it's worth, I'll be happy to have you as a sister-in-law, Hermione!" She briefly laid her hand on Ron's shoulder. "Okay. You're off the hook. I presume you two will be partners at the Ball? Ron told me he was staying here for it."

"Er, yes. And you…?"

"Don't know yet. I'm waiting to see what Harry decides." Ginny's expression was now wistful. Then someone pushed at the door from the other side. "Well, I'd better go. See you!"

Ginny moved and slipped out of the toilets. In exchange, Luna Lovegood calmly walked in, humming happily. Her silvery-grey eyes fell on Ron-as-Hermione.

"Oh! Hullo, Hermione."

"Hi, Luna." Ron-as-Hermione gave a quick smile and made to leave. As she passed Luna, however, the other witch whipped out her wand.

"_Petrificus!"_

"Aagghh!" Ron fell upon the thankfully-clean floor, and bruised her shoulder, as her legs went numb. Luna then quickly skipped over, snatched Ron's wand, and then pressed her petite frame against the door leading out of the girls' toilets.

_Oh… Great! The ladies were never this keen to pin me down, when I was a boy!_

"Luna! What the hell are you…?"

"Who was I talking to, when we first meet at Kings Cross Station?" Luna asked lightly.

"Wha…? I…I dunno! Hold on… As far as I remember, we first met in the carriage – onboard the Hogwarts Express!"

Luna's curious expression didn't change. However, she tilted her face as she stared down at her captive.

"Correct. And what else can you tell me about that meeting?"

"Er, er… I think you were reading The Quibbler. Upside down – for whatever reason…"

"I was checking the answers on the Quiz page, of course!" Luna smiled. "Keep going – what did I laugh at?"

Ron propped herself upon her elbows, and silently swore. She had no feeling in her legs, and could not move them.

"Oh, flamin' hell! I… Um… I compared Gregory Goyle's face to, er, a baboon's backside. _No!_ _Ron_ made that remark…"

"Yes, he did." Luna pointed her wand at 'Hermione', and mouthed _'Finite' _– nullifying her previous spell. "So… You are Ron Weasley!"

_Oh…oh…oh!_

Ron-as-Hermione flexed her legs, and was relieved to feel strength returning to them. "Tha-that's ridiculous!" she said, panicking, trying to mimic the original Hermione's manner of speech. "What ma-makes you say that?"

"I have been told that I am apparently more perceptive than most people," Luna replied matter-of-factly, without any hint of boasting. She held out the wand she had scooped up. "This is _Ron's _wand. No one else seems to have noticed! I did listen to Ginny's conversation with you, by the way. But it seems she didn't accurately read the signs between you and the one who looks like Ron." She paused, and smiled. "So…, Hermione must be in _your _body."

"Er… We haven't actually swa-swap… Blast – I can't say it…!"

"Then you must have both undergone a transformation into each other's likeness. Correct?" Luna asked in her unwavering, dreamy voice.

Ron-as-Hermione nodded.

"An experiment that went wrong?"

"Yeah. Sort of. It was a witch's doing. She cur-cu-ji-ji…lynxed us. Er, sphinxed us."

Luna blinked. "Sphinxed?" she repeated.

"It's part of that witch's work! 'Mione and me can't say certain words! Words that tell other people what happened to us!"

"Oh! I see. You and Hermione were _cursed - _or _jinxed_. In that case – tell me what you _can_, Ron!"

And so, with some stuttering and several gaps in her speech, Ron-as-Hermione related the tale to Luna.

"…So, me and Hermione have been advised by this Madame Skerritt to 'get our heads together'. Can you help, Luna? Please!"

"Hmm…" Luna put her wand in its customary place behind her ear, and helped Ron to her feet. "This sounds tricky. Do you wish me to tell Professor McGonagall – or Harry, Ginny, and Neville, first of all?"

"No! Not until 'Mione realises that you're in the know!" Ron frowned. "Erm – was there anything else that gave us away – besides the wands?"

"Why, yes!" Luna answered brightly. "At breakfast, this morning, Hermione – in your form – nearly kissed Harry. And you haven't yet mastered the art of talking and behaving like Hermione. Also, unlike her, your ears have never been pierced."

"Ahh… Okay… Let's find 'Mione now. She – or rather _he_ – wanted to think about how to restore us both back to normal," Ron-as-Hermione responded. "We need to track him down…"

"And where does Hermione go to think?" Luna had a small smile on her lips.

Ron slapped the side of her head. "Of course! He will be in the library…"

The two of them left the toilet and headed there.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Ron-as-Hermione and Luna did indeed find Hermione-as-Ron sat at one of the library tables, busy reading up on any magic that was known to change the appearance of wizarding folk or Muggles.

The real Hermione looked surprised that his counterpart had brought along their quirky Ravenclaw pal - but mindful of the other pupils studying at the desks nearby, Ron-as-Hermione sat down and wrote a note to the genuine Hermione, explaining that Luna now knew of their joint secret.

In the conversation that followed between the three seated friends, Hermione-as-Ron insisted that Luna keep the secret for now.

"I don't want Professor McGonagall to know, just yet! Not whilst there's a chance we can sort out this mess, ourselves. Ron will only get into trouble and lose us house points!" the real Hermione whispered to the other two. "Gryffindor's currently behind Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, as it is – and, if we're not careful, we'll fall behind Slytherin and take fourth place!"

"That's not good…" Ron-as-Hermione shook her head - then looked slyly at her counterpart. "Wait a mo'… Are you getting more competitive now, _Ron?_"

Hermione-as-Ron considered this, and turned a shade paler. "I must be. My mind's been a bit mixed up, lately, I guess…"

Luna hummed. She gave the two Gryffindors a thoughtful look - then quickly scribbled a note. Ron and Hermione read it.

'_You are both adjusting to your new hormones. And one effect of this jinx might be that you will quickly think, and feel, according to your new genders/identities.'_

"After all…," Luna added verbally. "…wasn't the spell meant for you to _fully_ understand each other? The magic used must have been strong!"

"Bloody-! Flammin' hell!" Ron-as-Hermione changed her choice of words in mid-sentence. "Are you saying that I'll soon be finding myself attracted to _boys?_"

A snicker came from the next table. Ron, Hermione, and Luna spun round to see Michael Corner and Terry Boot, who were helping each other analyse a chart of potion mixtures. Terry winked at Hermione. "Better late than never, eh - Granger?" The two Ravenclaw lads returned their attention to their work.

"Keep it quiet!" The real Hermione scolded an embarrassed Ron. "Right now, you two can help me in tracking down an answer as to how we can reverse the…the _damage_."

"Tell me about this Madame Skerritt. Including exactly what she told you in the Room of Requirement," Luna calmly invited Ron and Hermione.

They did so.

Luna frowned - then took out a fresh piece of parchment from the Librarian's desk. She began to write several capital letters. Minutes later, as both Hermione and Ron slammed shut the books they were using to search for answers, Luna passed her now-scrawled paper over to her companions. Amongst the various crossed-out lines of letters, and sketches of unicorns and what they assumed to be smiling Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, Ron and Hermione saw the following:

'_C SKERRITT_ _= TRICKSTER'_

"This lady did say she was Madame C Skerritt, in a _random _way of speaking…" Luna explained. "It's an anagram."

The mouth of Hermione-as-Ron hung open. "Ohh… Thank you, Luna! _That_ explains how she got into the school!"

"Er…? It does…?" Ron-as-Hermione looked blank.

"Get the tome on 'Meeting Supernatural Beings & Entities' by Ivan N. Kalnter, _'Mione_. And tell us what he says about 'Tricksters'!" the real Hermione urged his friend.

Before long, Ron was whispering extracts to Hermione and Luna.

"…Tricksters are rarely-seen beings, who have been known to assume a variety of appearances and forms – including that of humans, when they tend to wear tonal colours, particularly grey. Little is known about them – save that they are essentially neutral creatures, who delight in playing tricks upon their victims… They are seemingly obliged by their natures, in conversation with those who meet them, to both lie _and_ tell the truth…"

"Now I see how and why that 'Skerritt' woman took hair samples from us," the real Hermione addressed Ron. "She needed the hairs for her spell potion – which was an advanced form of Polyjuice potion. And she is able to go about the school at will, because she is something completely different from humans – despite her caravan and apparent appearance!"

"Okay… But what do we _do _about her and her blasted spell!" Ron-as-Hermione hissed back, glancing over her shoulder. "This entry doesn't tell us how to _deal_ with Tricksters! She could be _here_, watching and listening to us, right now!"

"I don't know…" Hermione-as-Ron admitted. "I'm at a loss."

Luna looked intently at her two friends. "Well, I can tell either Professor Flitwick, or Professor McGonagall, if you like – seeing the trouble you two have had! Or maybe you just need to play along with this Trickster – and be honest with each other. And that will break the j-j-j-j… I mean the c-c-c-cur… Oh!"

A woman's sharp laugh resounded through the Library. Ron, Hermione, and Luna all jumped with fright – and they looked round, startled. But the cause of the echoing mirth was nowhere to be seen. And, judging from their reactions – or rather the lack of – no one else had heard the mocking laughter.

Ron and Hermione turned their worried faces back to Luna. "Quick! Write down what you couldn't say!" Hermione-as-Ron urged Luna, handing over some parchment for her to use.

Luna found that she couldn't do so. She felt her hand seize up, and then she developed a headache.

Ron-as-Hermione sighed. "That Skerritt woman doesn't want you to tell anyone, Luna! We're stuck again…"

She shuddered and gritted her teeth – feeling another cramp coming on…

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Hermione-as-Ron was dreading going back to Gryffindor Tower, and being confronted by an angry Harry - given his poor performance during today's Quidditch practice. Ron-as-Hermione, however, gave him moral support by telling Harry the same story she had given Ginny – that 'Ron's' nerves had been frayed lately, due to worrying about Harry, NEWT exams, and the coming Christmas. Harry accepted the explanation, along with an apology from 'Ron'.

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't get mad." Harry patted the shoulder of Hermione-as-Ron. "This is nothing to get worked up over – not when the Order of the Phoenix and I managed to…, well. I'll tell you later, when we're somewhere more private than this common room."

Seeing Ginny and Neville close by, who were talking together, Harry waved them over.

"Now…" Harry continued to address Ron and Hermione. "You two are staying for the Ball, I understand. Right?"

"Yes. Hermione…and I will be dancing partners." The real Hermione put on a fake smile as he spoke.

Harry looked taken aback – but he grinned as he appraised his friends. "That's great, guys! But I, er, wish to spice things up a bit. If you don't mind, that is! Ginny – have you…?"

"…checked with Luna at lunchtime? Yes! She was intending to stay at home for Christmas – but she thinks your idea for the Ball is a good one." Ginny smiled.

"Erm, what…?" Ron-as-Hermione started to ask.

"Oh! Of course. I've asked Ginny and Neville – but not yet told you two!" Harry lightly slapped the side of his forehead, chastising himself. "The situation's this. Voldie is getting his forces ready to make a big move, when the weather will allow him. So our intelligence sources say. So, this could be not only our last Christmas together – but the last Christmas we might see alive! And I want you guys – the ones who went with me to the Ministry of Magic – to know I much I appreciate you all. So, whilst Ginny and I have got our relationship 'on hold', how about us five – with Luna – attend the Ball as a six some? We'll swap partners during the course of the evening. Erm… Always between a boy and a girl, of course!" Harry declared. "Although I'm not expecting you and Ginny to dance together - naturally, Ron!"

"Um… Er…" Hermione-as-Ron thought he felt his heart flip over. "What about you, Neville? You were going to date a Hufflepuff girl, the last I heard…"

Neville looked uncomfortable – but he smiled nevertheless. "Charlotte's Muggle mother was attacked by a Death-Eater recently. She's gone to see her in hospital. Don't worry – it wasn't too serious! But the bottom line is I'm without a dance partner. Still – I'll be happy to dance with you ladies, and Luna too!"

"So what do you say – Ron, Hermione? Happy with that?"

Ron and Hermione looked at the expectant faces of Harry, Ginny, and Neville.

_Oh, how ignorance is bliss…_, the genuine Hermione thought, amidst his mounting sense of panic.

He and Ron glanced at each other. Both of them tried to mask the fear in their eyes.

"Sure. That…that's a great idea, Harry!" Ron-as-Hermione squeaked.

"F-f-fine by me!" Hermione-as-Ron managed to say.

"Great!" Harry replied enthusiastically, not cottoning on.

"We just need to sort out who pairs up with whom during the dances, then!" Ginny added. "We'll sort it – along with Luna – at breakfast, tomorrow!"

The group broke up. Ron and Hermione backed away and sat down on the sofa together, in a state of shock. Ron-as-Hermione tried not to whimper.

She failed.

"Urr…._Hermione?_" Hermione-as-Ron managed to say.

"Yeah…? I mean – yes?"

"We need to practice Ballroom dancing."

"Definitely!"

"Room of Requirement…?"

"Room of Requirement."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight!"

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

A little later, in the Room of Requirement…

"Right, Ron. Here's a book from the library, which I've taken out – on your card, naturally. It's about Ball Dance Etiquette. I've just had a quick look over it."

"Oh. Okay…"

"All set, then? Let's take up our Promenade positions."

"Right."

Several seconds later, Hermione-as-Ron spoke again.

"Okay… We _both_ need to _think_ first, before taking our positions! _Your_ left hand rests on _my_ right shoulder – and my right hand holds _you_ between your shoulder blade and waist…"

"Oops…!"

"And we hold our other hands together, like so – forming the spout of the teapot. Okay?"

"Well – no, 'Mione! I can't believe I'm going to have to dance with my best friend, Harry! And with Neville, too!"

"Pity me, then! I'll have to dance with Luna! What do you think that's going to be like?"

"Oh, I dunno… Interesting, maybe?"

"Stop smirking – and let's get dancing!"

"Yes, dear."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

**Girl Talk**

The next three days continued to be a nightmare of sorts, for both Hermione and Ron. Ron-as-Hermione found herself on the receiving end of surprised looks from the likes of Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, and Sinistra, when she did not volunteer to answer questions thrown open to the class. Ron did valiantly try as hard as she could in each class, given her ongoing predicament. It was definitely reassuring, however, to have the real Hermione next to her in some of her classes.

On the Wednesday, at the breakfast table, Hermione-as-Ron reminded Harry that he had some news to tell them.

"Right… Yes, I did," Harry responded, trying to keep his voice low, against the babble of voices from the pupils all around. He allowed himself to grin. "_It's_ been destroyed! What I was out looking for…"

Hermione-as-Ron caught his drift. "That's great, Harry!"

The real Ron nodded and smiled. "Nice! How many more do you think that leaves…?"

"What's been destroyed? Not school property, I hope!" Lavender Brown piped up from her seat, close to Harry.

"Er, no – Lavender. This is nothing to do with school…" Harry scowled.

"So it was during your field trip?" Parvati Patil, seated in-between Lavender and Harry, raised an eyebrow as she tucked into her cereal. "What is it you're doing, that's so important, for you to keep disappearing from school, Harry? Hermione won't tell!"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron all glanced at each other – then faced the two nosey girls.

"No offence to you both – but it's really best if I don't say," Harry declared, somewhat coldly.

"Oh, alright. You should be able to trust us, you know. After all, we are your housemates!" Lavender sniffed disdainfully.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron continued the rest of their breakfast in relative silence. As they finished, they – plus Ginny and Neville – sorted their partnering arrangements for the Yule Ball with Luna.

Hermione had voiced to Ron and Luna the possibility of acquiring some Polyjuice Potion, in order to see if that could reverse – even temporarily – the 'curse' upon the two Gryffindor pupils. But, without the use of Harry's invisibility cloak, that plan didn't seem likely to work. As it happened, something else happened to shoot down that little scheme before it could take flight.

On the Thursday afternoon, Luna caught up with Ron and Hermione, shortly after they left their last class.

"Hello, Luna!"

"Hullo." Luna moved closer to them, and lowered her voice – so that the pupils passing by could not hear them talking. "I was in Potions earlier today, and heard Professor Slughorn talking to Mr Filch as I took my seat, just before the lesson started. Apparently, there's been a break-in of the Potions storeroom sometime since last Friday! Some Polyjuice potion and other liquids were taken. But Mr Filch hasn't found them, yet."

"Blimey! That's been kept quiet," Ron-as-Hermione responded.

"Professor Slughorn only discovered the loss when he was stocktaking, last night," explained Luna.

"That's bad… If someone knows how to brew Polyjuice potion correctly, we could have another imposter around," Hermione pointed out. "Do Slughorn and Filch have any suspects?"

Luna shook her head. "None – other than Mr Filch believes it to be at least one of the pupils. The door was soundly spell-locked. But Filch thinks whoever it was got in with a skeleton key…"

Ron snapped her fingers. "Madame Skerritt! She came in our dormitories whilst we were sleeping, and took samples of our hairs, 'Mione. It must have been her – preparing for her magic, last Sunday!"

"Oh, yes. I suppose it must have been," Hermione-as-Ron mused.

The genuine Ron looked at the real Hermione. "You don't sound too sure."

"It's always best to keep an open mind to possibilities, until the facts allow you to be certain of one thing or another," Luna declared mysteriously. "From what you yourselves have told me about the adventures of you and Harry at this school, surely you two have learnt by now not to jump to false conclusions?"

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Over the three days from Wednesday to Friday, away from classes, Ron-as-Hermione found herself being drawn into the discussions that the other girls in her dormitory group were engaged in. Parvati, in particular, was getting excited about the forthcoming event – so much so that her giggling partner of old, Lavender, seemed to be getting bored of the fuss.

Ron learnt that Lavender - thanks to the suggestion of Hermione-as-Ron – had indeed asked Anthony Goldstein to partner her at the Ball. Parvati, meanwhile, had been delighted to have been asked out by the 'handsome-looking' Blaise Zabini. She didn't seem to mind that Blaise was from Slytherin.

"He's not that bad, when he gets talking," Parvati retorted to Ron-as-Hermione's sceptical reaction. "He's a gentleman – and he thinks Draco Malfoy is a berk! _And_ he can dance – we've had a practice session!"

"But that's it! 'When he gets talking', you say," Ron-as-Hermione pointed out. "Blaise doesn't mix with any non-Slytherin pupils! Why he's interested in you, all of a sudden?"

"We've been talking, whilst rehearsing for the school play we put on at the start of December," the Indian girl explained. "Granted, Pansy and Millicent – the Slytherins who were also in the Amateur Dramatics Group – didn't talk much to anyone not from their house. But Blaise sometimes speaks to me and Romilda, and occasionally to Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe of Ravenclaw. He's certainly nicer than that Zachery Smith, who's also in our group! What did you think to our play – by the way?"

"Er, yeah… _Yes_ – it was interesting." Ron-as-Hermione quickly changed her manner of speech. "All of you girls are good actresses! But you need more boys in your line up – Zabini isn't much of a leading man. He's a bit stiff on stage… Erm, I still don't understand why he's mixing with non-Slytherins…"

"I got the impression he was getting fed up with his housemates." The wistful look in Parvati's eyes gave way to scorn. "I bet _he_ would treat me and my sister better than Harry and Ron did, three years ago, at the last Ball!"

_Ouch! Guilty as charged…_ Ron shuddered at the memory.

During another such talk between the dorm girls, however, Parvati was showing 'Hermione', Lavender, and some of her invited Gryffindor friends, her order catalogue from a witch fashion boutique, where the moving pictures portrayed models of various ages, creed, and colour, beaming for the camera as they posed and twirled in their various costumes – including business suits, bridal wear, party dresses, accessories, and more.

One of those invited along was Romilda Vane, a dark-haired fifth-year pupil. Ron regarded her with distrust, remembering the chaos on his seventeenth birthday. Romilda had inadvertently doped Ron with love potion that had been intended for Harry – and, under the effects, Ron had been foolishly smitten with Romilda, without knowing anything about her.

Ron wondered if Romilda had got Harry out of her system – now that he had (briefly) dated Ginny in the meantime…

Interrupting her thoughts, Parvati asked 'Hermione' for her opinion on what colour shoes would go with the new red-and-purple coloured sari she was planning to wear to the Ball this time. The damson or the lilac?

Ron-as-Hermione hesitated.

"Well…, I would go for the damson coloured shoes – but it's really up to you," she answered tactfully. And Ron used this tactic to avoid, as best as possible, revealing her lack of fashion sense. Nevertheless, when the catalogue was being handed around, Ron-as-Hermione couldn't resist looking at it. She found herself being attracted to the idea of buying another pair of shoes, to add to the real Hermione's six pairs lying next to her bed…

Meanwhile, 'Ron' was having experiences of his own, being dragged– despite his stalling tactics – into games of Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap. To his horror, some of the sessions with Seamus, Dean, Neville, and – when he felt inclined – Harry, involved gambling with collectable Wizard cards.

Of course, due to his lack of expertise and knowledge of the finer rules, Hermione-as-Ron ended up losing most of the real Ron's assortment of cards, which he'd been building up over the years.

_Ron's going to go berserk when she finds out!_ Hermione thought to himself, after a particularly bad session.

But the next thing Hermione-as-Ron found himself berated for by the original Ron came after a Transfiguration class on Thursday – when a new supply teacher was filling in for Professor McGonagall.

The teacher was a thirty-something brunette, who possessed a light, friendly manner with the pupils. She also had a curvaceous figure that reminded Hermione-as-Ron of that Muggle woman from the TV show called 'Baywatch'…

A little later that day, after the last teaching lesson, Hermione-as-Ron walked into the school's gym. Naturally, the CV equipment was operated not by electricity, but by magic. However, the weight machines were the same as those in a Muggle gymnasium.

The area was quiet, Hermione noted as he made a start with his written schedule. After all, the Ball was only two days away, and he wanted to look, and feel, fit for the grand event. Besides, his research in trying to find a way to reverse the jinx laid on him and Ron was getting nowhere. Although Polyjuice Potion could be used to turn the drinker into a likeness of the person, male or female, whose hair was added to the foul-tasting brew – the effects always wore off if the drinker didn't partake more of the juice, to maintain their disguise. There were simply no recorded instances of anyone – witch, wizard, or Muggle – having been jinx-stuck in the form of someone of the opposite sex.

Hermione's frustration with his lack of progress was annoying him – and it seemed right to do something to work off his aggravation in a physical, but purposeful manner.

So, dressed in a (hated) Chuddly Cannons T-shirt, a pair of shorts, trainers, and magically-cleaned (and whitened) socks, cobbled together from Ron's assortment of clothes, Hermione-as-Ron got to work – limbering up, before starting with a wizard treadmill, then a rower. Then he moved onto the first of the weights – the Pectoral.

"Oh! Hi. What are you doing here?"

Hermione-as-Ron carefully released the weights back to their starting positions – then looked up, to see Ron-as-Hermione, who was dressed in a black lycra tracksuit and trainers.

There was no else within earshot, so Hermione gave an honest reply.

"I'm doing something to boost these skinny arms I've inherited from you! Girls like to have a fit man to hold them, now and then – you should know! And, if I can, I want to be able to see my new feet whenever I'm standing up – not look at a podgy stomach!"

Ron-as-Hermione looked hurt. "Right… I see."

"Why are _you_ here?"

"I've come to do something about the skinny legs _you_ gave _me_!" Ron sniffed disdainfully. "And to make sure I'm in good nick for our 'date' on Saturday night."

"Fine…" Hermione scrutinised Ron-as-Hermione. "Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me, Ron?"

"Er… Well, you might be interested to hear Cormac McLaggen paid me a compliment on how good I was looking. Then he spoilt the effect by asking me to the Ball! I soon told him I was taken for the evening – but he was insisting on having at least one dance with me. That is until I threatened to jinx him there and then with the Langlock spell, so he couldn't ask anyone out for a while. He's a right pest, isn't he?"

Hermione-as-Ron sighed, nodding. "Now you know how I felt when he couldn't remove himself from the real me…!" He paused. "Ron – where did you get that tracksuit from? I don't have one with me when I attend Hogwarts…"

"It's on loan from Parvati. She made me promise to see that it's washed, before I hand it back to her… Why…are you looking at me like that, 'Mione?"

"Like what?"

"Like you are undressing me with your eyes!"

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are. And you were rather taken with our new supply teacher, this morning!"

"Ahh, you mean Miss Doubleday…"

Ron-as-Hermione snorted. "Miss Double D, more like! You and the other boys were finding it hard to concentrate on the lesson, I noticed. Still, at least _I_ was able to answer her questions – and get some house points!"

Turning on the spot, the real Ron headed for the treadmill and started it up with her wand, before slipping it into a holding compartment on the magical contraption.

_I was making puppy eyes at a woman…?_ Hermione-as-Ron thought to himself as he returned to his work-out on the weights.

As he moved onto the bicep curl, positioned close to the treadmills, Hermione-as-Ron appraised Ron-as-Hermione – and felt his heart flutter.

_Ron looks really fetching in that lycra tracksuit… Er, _I_ look good in that tracksuit! And she has a nice, graceful running rhythm – not to mention her slim waist and lovely-looking thighs…_

_Oh, Merlin! Can this situation get any weirder? I can't fancy how I used to look!_

Some minutes later, Hermione-as-Ron added another tick to his list of completed weights – then decided to get down onto a mat in front of one of the wall mirrors, and try out some press-ups.

After reaching a dozen, Hermione looked up at the mirror, and paused. Ron-as-Hermione was standing to one side, watching 'Ron' with riveted interest.

Hermione-as-Ron lowered himself to the ground - then rolled over to face his friend. "Um… Is…there a problem, _Hermione?_ You're looking a bit red…"

"Wha…? Oh no! Just watching your technique. Carry on!" Ron-as-Hermione replied in a suddenly-chirpy voice, then hid her flushed face, as she walked over to the leg-curl machine.

_Her face wasn't red when I saw her in the mirror – only when I turned round… And Ron seemed particularly fixated on my bum…_

Hermione-as-Ron rubbed his temple, feeling the stirrings of a headache coming on.

_Okay, Hermione… The situation just got a bit weirder…_, he silently told himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

**The Ball**

The evening of the Yule Ball had arrived.

On Saturday 20th December, the last official day of Autumn, in the early evening, Hermione-as-Ron waited with Harry in the Gryffindor common room for their initial dancing partners to arrive. Neville had already headed to the staircase midway between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers, in order to meet up with Luna.

Harry and 'Ron' made small talk, discussing Christmas shopping and what they could be doing at Hogwarts over the festive period. For his part, Hermione-as-Ron was finding it easier to play his role as Harry's best friend, having practised – with Luna as observer – at perfecting the real Ron's mannerisms and delivery of speech.

_Thank goodness Harry hasn't got worried about us!_ Hermione thought to himself._ He's been so focused on his own thoughts, ever since he's got back from hunting that Horcrux locket, and wanting time to himself – that he's not realised who I really am!_

_Ginny's told me Harry's had to rush around with buying late Christmas presents. But I wonder what else is on his mind…?_

When Ginny and Ron-as-Hermione did come down to the common room, the original Hermione did a double take. The false Hermione now had her hair straighter and cut down slightly, so that the tawny tresses were cleared from her ears and hung only to the base of her neck. And the gold-coloured, shoulder-strapped dress Ron-as-Hermione wore did indeed make her look pretty.

Ron just had to work on the make-up, though, Hermione-as-Ron considered. The pink lipstick was fine – but she had overdone it somewhat with the mascara.

_Another layer of that – and she'll look like a blue-eyed panda…_

"You've changed your hair!" was the first thing to come out of Hermione-as-Ron's mouth, as he stepped forward to clasp a hand on Ron-as-Hermione's shoulder.

"Yes. I got fed up of comments from twerps like Pansy Parkinson! And it was too overgrown in my opinion," Ron whispered back. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Besides, shouldn't you be acting the gentleman, and telling me how much you like my new hairstyle? Or how fabulous I look!"

_Well! Ron's certainly different from how _he_ used to be. Or even how _she_ used to be, just four days ago. And, to be truthful, her hair _does_ look better now…_

"You really look great, Hermione!" The real Hermione smiled, patting Ron on her back.

Ron-as-Hermione looked the false Ron up and down, taking in the black suit, white shirt, and red tie. Harry was dressed identically.

"Where did you get the suits from, boys?" Ginny asked, eyeing Ron with surprise. "You don't have one like that at home, Ron!"

"Oh, I splashed out with a 'male' order outfitters," Harry smirked. "I'm helping out Ron, whilst he gets his finances in order…"

"I think you look great, Ron! You've got your hair nicely trimmed as well," Ron-as-Hermione announced, cutting short Harry's disclosure, as she ruffled Hermione-as-Ron's now-neater ginger mop with her gloved hand. "And Harry looks special too, don't you think, Ginny?"

"Oh, definitely…" Ginny appraised Harry with a wide smile. Ron wondered if she was undressing Harry with her eyes.

"Er… Glad you approve!" Harry smiled at his friends, as he tried not to blush. "Well, if we're all ready – let's meet up with Neville and Luna, and join the party as a six some!"

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

The sixth dance of the evening, a quickstep, came to a merciful end. Wiping aside the sweat on her face, Ron-as-Hermione gave a gasp of relief. Harry, her current dancing partner, looked somewhat worn out, too. But he was still able to smile.

"Thanks, Hermione!" He gave her hand a kiss, as the torches in the Great Hall were magically restored to their full flare again. Above them, the false ceiling of the Hall portrayed the bright stars of the northern constellations. Ron was able to recognise the outlines of Orion and Taurus, and – to the west - the square of Pegasus.

_Harry kissed my hand…!_

Ron-as-Hermione quickly remembered to curtsey. "You're welcome, Harry!" She managed to smile, still feeling embarrassed to have been dancing with her best friend - having spent over six years growing up together as boys.

Harry, Hermione, and the rest of their group – the same six who had fought the Death Eaters in the Ministry's Department of Mysteries a year-and-a-half previously – retreated to their two adjoining party tables, located to one side of the Hall, (the house tables having been teleported elsewhere for the night). Harry then stopped one of the passing waiters, and ordered drinks for himself and his five friends. When they were sorted, Harry proposed a toast.

"Well… To us – whatever the future holds! Tonight, Voldie and his ilk can go hang themselves. I want us all to enjoy this night – and this Christmas – whilst we can. So, to friendship. And, to us! Good health to you all!"

"To friends!"

"Good health!"

Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Neville all clicked their glasses together with Harry's and to each other's, smiling as they did so. They then glanced over at the buffet table, which had been made available to all, after the third dance.

Hermione-as-Ron felt his stomach rumble.

_Oh, no! Here we go,_ _once more_…_ If – when – we get back to being as we were, I won't be in a hurry to criticise Ron's appetite again…_

"Thanks for suggesting this idea of rotating dance partners, Harry," Ginny spoke up. "It's been a great evening, so far!"

The others agreed with her. A moment of silence passed between them, Ron-as-Hermione glanced round at her friends, still flushed after their dancing. But they were all smiling. Happy.

_This coming year will be the crunch time! Like Harry said, this could be our last Christmas at all! Let alone our last together. And what about the staff and other pupils now eating, drinking, and talking around us? How many of us will still be alive, still standing, still able to feel…anything? And what will we be feeling? Cruciatus Curses, as the prisoners of Death Eaters? Grief, from losing somebody out of my family or friends? Or will we be celebrating Snakeface's defeat and well-deserved death?_

_And _how _will I be feeling my emotions? As a boy again – or still as a girl?_

_Will Harry and Hermione even still be with me…?_

Ron tore herself away from her thoughts. She realised that Luna was looking proudly at Professor Flitwick, who was currently chatting with Professors McGonagall, Slughorn, and Sprout. At the start of the evening's festivities, Professor McGonagall had announced to the gathered staff and pupils that with the onset of the new school term, she would no longer be the Acting Headmistress – but would remain as Deputy. Instead, Professor Flitwick would become the new Headmaster – and interviews would be held in January, to appoint the new Head of Ravenclaw House.

"Good for Professor Flitwick - becoming the new Headmaster. I mean!" Ron remarked to Luna. "Do you think he'll hold firm against our enemies – like Dumbledore tried to?"

"Oh, yes! My head of house is more shrewd and determined than most people realise. He'll make us all proud of him." Luna smiled.

"I'd better go and congratulate him in person," Harry announced, looking thoughtful. "McGonagall may or may not have said something about my ongoing need to take time off from school, because of you-know-what. I'll be back later!" And with that, Harry took his drink and headed over to talk with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick.

At that moment, the stomach of Hermione-as-Ron growled again.

_Oh, for heaven's sake! Has it got a life of its own?_

He got up from his seat. "Excuse me – I'll be getting some desert." He caught the smirk on Ron-as-Hermione's face.

Neville rose also. "I'll tag along with you! Coming, ladies?"

Ginny and Luna declined. That surprised Ron-as-Hermione, as she understood that Luna was quite fond of her puddings. However, she didn't feel hungry, either.

"I'm still recovering," Ron explained, resting at an angle on her seat. "Maybe later. Just make sure there's some left for us!" She paused, thinking about her new appetites which had developed in the last few days since becoming a girl - then she grinned and added, "Especially if there's chocolate gateaux."

"Okay – will do!" Neville and the fake Ron walked off.

Ginny sighed and took her shoes off. Flexing her toes, she laid back in her chair. Ron-as-Hermione automatically copied her.

"Well," Ginny began, smiling at her two companions. "Now that it's just us girls here, which of our young men strike you as the best dancing partner?"

"Er, that's not really fair!" Ron-as-Hermione declared. "We've only had two partners each. We can't yet compare all three of them together!"

"True," Luna spoke up. "But out of Neville and…Ron, I'd say Neville had the better rhythm in his moves!"

_Well, Neville has had more experience as a boy, hasn't he?_ Ron-as-Hermione couldn't resist a secret smile at Hermione's expense.

"What's your verdict, so far, Hermione?" Ginny asked, sipping her drink.

Ron-as-Hermione thought about that. She and 'Ron' had managed to work together, compensating for their lack of experience in their new forms – whereas partnering with Harry for three dances had been a nerve-racking slog. She couldn't relax enough, knowing that Harry would be horrified to know his dancing partner was not really Hermione, but his best friend Ron.

"Ron, definitely Ron," 'Hermione' answered. "And you?"

"Harry, of course." Ginny laughed. "So we all preferred our first partner! The lads get one vote each. Still, you'll get to pair up with Neville next, Hermione. And you'll have Harry for three dances, Luna. Then – if he's still got the stamina left – I want the last dance with Harry!"

"That's fine by me. Who will you dance with now, Ginny?" Luna asked. "Obviously not your brother…"

"I've made arrangements with Justin Finch-Fletchley. He had trouble getting a partner for the whole evening. It's just strictly plutonic."

_I hope it is, Ginny. Save yourself for Harry…! _But the protective brother instinct, strong in the old Ron, was now muted, out of necessity, in Ron-as-Hermione. Forcing herself to break away from Ginny for a moment, Ron allowed her eyes to wander across the Great Hall. With the torches burning brightly, it was easy to see across the crowd of pupils, teachers, and mingling waiters. The room was filled with countless, indistinct conversations. And, of course, the hall was splendidly decorated with Christmas trimmings of all colours - particularly gold, silver, red, blue, and green. The tree, set to one side of the buffet table, where the staff normally sat during other meals, was about four times Hagrid's height.

Ginny and Luna followed the other girl's gaze. "It's interesting to see who's partnered up with who, isn't it?" Ginny tittered. "There's Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott. I thought Ernie would be with her, or Susan Bones…"

"Cho Chang and one of your ex-boyfriends, Ginny. It's Michael Corner," Luna observed.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "That doesn't worry me. Michael's out of my system. Who else have we got? Hmm, Professor Slughorn was dancing with Professor Sprout! You don't think…?"

"It's just as friends. I watched how they interacted," Luna remarked. She sipped her drink.

"There's Gregory Goyle – at the buffet table!" Ron-as-Hermione announced. "That's the first time I've seen him, all evening!"

"So?" Ginny gave 'Hermione' a puzzled look. "He's talking with Blaise Zabini. Heavens knows how Blaise managed to get Parvati to be his partner tonight… No girl with Goyle – no surprise there. His only chat-up line is probably 'Me, man. You, woman!"

Luna and Ron-as-Hermione laughed out loud.

"So…, where's Vincent Crabbe gone to? He was sat at Zabini's table, earlier." Luna remarked, when she had recovered. "Crabbe and Goyle are – how does the Muggle expression go… 'As thick as thieves'?"

"That's very appropriate for them – on both counts, probably," Ron-as-Hermione muttered, frowning. "Also – where's Pansy Parkinson? She's not the kind of stuck-up witch who would miss out on this kind of evening…"

"She's been missing from her classes since the start of Wednesday," Ginny explained. "I heard it on the grapevine. She gave Professor Slughorn a letter from her parents that her uncle was seriously ill, and that she wanted to see him. Well, you know how obliging Slughorn is to a pupil who's got family with connections… And Romilda Vane's not here, either – thank goodness! I wasn't sure if she was coming or not. I don't want her anywhere near Harry - after her resorts to that blasted love potion, which Ron accidently took…"

Ginny trailed off, as she saw Justin waving at her from amongst a crowd of Hufflepuffs. She finished her drink, and excused herself, as she slipped her shoes back on. "I'd better be ready for my next dance partner! See you girls later!" Ginny shot off.

Ron-as-Hermione looked on as she saw Justin and Ginny talking.

Luna read her expression. Softly, so that no one else could hear her, she asked, "Are you all right…, Ron?"

Ron glanced back at Luna. "Yeah, I guess. It still feels weird… I'm no longer Ginny's brother – but she's still my sister! Only we can't tell her. And…I don't want her to go off with other boys, whilst Harry's put himself on hold, so to speak."

"You don't want either of them to get hurt. Neither do I," Luna gave the hand of Ron-as-Hermione a gentle squeeze. "But Ginny is old enough to make her own decisions. When you become Ron Weasley again, you need to learn how to stop being the over-protective brother!"

"I know," Ron sighed. "But it's hard. If you had brothers or sisters, Luna, you'll… Sorry. That's tactless of me."

"That's okay. I understand your point." Luna smiled. "If my mother lived longer, perhaps I wouldn't be an only child? Maybe. But anyway, I thought you and Hermione did well together on the dance floor. You're both getting the knack of how to go with your new body rhythms!"

"Er…thanks! So I'm apparently acclimatising to being a lady?"

Luna's silver-grey eyes probed Ron's. "Do _you_ think you are?"

"Um… Yes, I think I am… And that's rather scary…"

Luna nodded sympathetically. "You have another five days to break…you-know-what. Don't despair! Between you, me, and Hermione, we'll find a way."

Ron-as-Hermione gave a weak smile. "Thanks! But will it be too late, by then? Will 'Mione and me be so changed by that witch's magic, inside, that we won't _want_ to go back to how we were?"

"You _are_…settling in…as a girl, then, Ron! Is it better than being a boy?"

Ron-as-Hermione shrugged. "Pros and cons either way, I guess. Bleedin' periods are over – thank goodness! And if we do get back to being normal, I won't ever moan to how long 'Mione takes to take ready, with make-up and dressing up! And…I seem to be able to talk about my feelings more openly now. Not just to anyone – but with you, and 'Mione. Well, I'm getting there with Hermione."

"I think you should tell her – or him – exactly how you feel…" Luna smiled - then trailed off as Professor McGonagall raised her voice and made an announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The next dance will now be starting shortly. Please find your partner, and take up your positions!"

_Okay, now for maybe two dances with Neville – and hopefully I can then hook up with Hermione again…,_ Ron thought to herself.

"Oh! Where are our partners?" Luna stood up and looked around. She was rewarded by the sight of Harry dashing over to them, and her face expressed her relief.

"Sorry! I got stalled by Colin Creevey taking pictures, again!" Harry panted. He bowed before Luna. "May I have this dance with you, Miss Lovegood?"

"Certainly, Mr Potter!"

Ron-as-Hermione stood up, her eyes sweeping the Great Hall. "Where's Neville?" she asked.

"Ah… He went to the toilet, last I knew. Hope he's not been locked in by Peeves the Poltergeist… Only joking, Hermione! See you later!" He held out his arm, for Luna to slip her hand into his – and they walked over to the dance floor, leaving a worried Ron-as-Hermione by herself.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

A few minutes earlier…

When Hermione-as-Ron returned to his drink (left at the corner of the buffet table) after stocking up on dessert, he found a spot at the edge of the Great Hall, away from the crowds, to tuck into his chocolate gateaux with added fruit – then he washed it down with some of his shandy.

_Strange… It tastes a bit…different…, from how it was earlier…_

Neville had excused himself, heading for the gent's toilet. And so Hermione-as-Ron was left to himself. He glanced around, seeing Harry conversing with Professor McGonagall. Next to them, Parvati Patil was listening attentively as Blaise Zabini was talking about his career hopes. And close by, Colin Creevey was taking photos of a smiling Professor Flitwick, along with some of the other members of staff, including the job-share DADA teachers, Professors Lupin and Moody.

To his other side, Gregory Goyle was also eating by himself. He smirked at Hermione-as-Ron – but otherwise ignored him. There was no sign of Vincent Crabbe – though he had been around earlier.

_At least I don't feel so intimidated by you…, now that I'm a young man, myself! _Hermione considered.

"Hello, Ron! All by yourself?"

Hermione gave a little jump and looked around. He held his tongue, seeing Lavender Brown, clad in a garish pink and yellow dress, standing before him. She had a filled glass in her hand. Thankfully, her hair was not bound up by any ribbons tonight.

"Oh, hi Lavender! Are…, are you and Anthony enjoying the evening?"

Lavender gave a strained smile. "It's fun, so far – but I don't rate Tony's dancing that much. I wanted to get away from him, to be honest."

"I see…"

"So – you've danced with Hermione and Luna? Loony didn't look that co-ordinated, if you ask me."

_But I didn't ask you…_ "Well, yes. Luna is rather free-spirited. But she's all right as a partner, provided you encourage her to stay focused," Hermione-as-Ron replied. _Instead of her counting the stars on the ceiling…,_ he mentally added to himself.

Suddenly, Hermione rubbed his eyes, feeling a little unfocused himself.

"Are you all right, Won-Won?"

_Don't…call…me…THAT!_

"Er…Feeling a bit tired, I guess. Been doing a lot – finishing off school work from the last few days. Sorting…, sorting Christmas presents, getting ready…for this."

"Of course." Lavender simpered. "Still, glad to see you're enjoying a good drink! So – who's your next dance partner?"

She was actually quite cute when she giggled, Hermione-as-Ron considered. And her blonde-brown hair shone nicely in the light of the nearest torch flame.

"No one. Harry, Ginny, and Neville made the plan up. I'm quite happy sitting the rest of the night out…"

"Now that's not really true, is it, Ron? You'll only be twiddling your thumbs."

"Yes… I guess you're right," Hermione-as-Ron agreed. He took another quaff of his shandy, noticing that it now tasted better.

"Tell you what – it's rather warm here! Let's go outside for some fresh air. There's something we _need_ to discuss, in private."

Hermione's first instinct was simply to get away from the other Gryffindor girl. But although he felt somewhat tired, he was intrigued by what Lavender had to say. And he was beginning to feel hot, after the waltz, quickstep, and other dances.

"All right. Just for a few minutes," Hermione-as-Ron agreed.

Lavender smiled and led him out of the Great Hall, and to the courtyard at the main entrance…

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Back in the Great Hall, Ron-as-Hermione was starting to get annoyed. The seventh dance – the first after the recent break – had begun, and there was still no sign of Neville.

She scanned the dance floor, seeing Padma Patil dancing with a black Hufflepuff boy named Clifford Chagoja. Her sister, Parvati, wearing the damson-coloured shoes underneath her sari, beamed as her own dark-skinned suitor – Blaise Zabini - held her and lifted her up, in time to the music. Nearby were Ginny and Justin, concentrating on their own timing. Next came Harry and Luna. Harry looked nervous – but, as they spun round, Ron-as-Hermione could see Luna closing her eyes for a moment, her expression looking more dreamy than usual. In fact, she seemed happier than Ron had seen her, since her hysterical laughter during their first meeting, when she reacted to Ron's remark about Gregory Goyle.

"_I don't like dancing very much…" _Luna had said. But that had been two years ago, during that same encounter, when Ron and Harry had first became aware of Luna.

Ron-as-Hermione frowned a little. The image was fleeting – the couples continued to swirl around the dance floor, but she had a certain feeling. And that surprised her. It wasn't something she would've picked up on…

…when she had been male.

_Oh, crikey! I think I've just experienced female intuition! _Ron thought to herself, feeling somewhat alarmed.

_And where is Hermione, anyway?_ He too, was nowhere to be seen in the Great Hall. _I suppose he's gone to the gents, too, after all that drinking earlier. Honestly, boys! If anyone should take longer in the toilets tonight, it's us girls – what with wearing these fab dresses. Luckily I did my business, before getting changed…_

In her annoyance, Ron-as-Hermione decided to head for the nearest set of toilets, to see if there was anyone there. As it turned out, the only person present was Mr Filch, the caretaker. He had just come out of the Gents, and was squinting at a chalk sign hanging on the door. It read 'Men's toilets brokun – use 2nd floor one, insted!'

"Now what is this malarkey? Peeves!" Filch raised his head and shouted into thin air – turning his head round in each direction, in case the poltergeist was around. "Is this your doing? I'll get you for this!"

Ron-as-Hermione didn't really want to approach the irate caretaker – but she wanted to check on Neville. She stepped forward, clearing her throat.

"Er, good evening, Mr Filch! Was Neville Longbottom in the toilets, by any chance?"

"Oh, hello missy… Nah – I checked. No one there. He must've gone up to the second floor, after seeing this stupid sign…"

Ron narrowed her eyes. "Um? Stupid…?"

"There's nowt wrong with either the Gents or the Ladies toilet, here!" Filch's haggard, unfriendly face loomed closer to Ron-as-Hermione, making her take a nervous step back. "Wait a minute… Maybe Longbottom put this sign up…"

"He's not…the type…to do that! And Neville's spelling isn't that terrible. Excuse me!"

Thinking fast, Ron-as-Hermione gulped and left Filch behind. She hurried along the corridor to the moving staircases, pulling out her wand as she did so. Hermione, Harry, and Luna, had visited the ground floor toilets earlier, and no one said anything about a sign then. So if the notice was a fake, why had it been put there…?

And who did so?

_Well, no time to pull Harry, Luna, or Ginny out of the dance… So it's down to yours truly! _Ron considered, as she jogged along the corridor, panting.

_Except that I can't run that fast in this long dress…!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight:**

**Conflict**

In the courtyard, Hermione-as-Ron was rubbing his eyes again, feeling unfocussed once more. The gushing of the fountain, close by, sounded a little too loud, and he shifted along the stone bench to get away from it. Only to bump into Lavender Brown, who had just sat besides him.

"Here's your drink, Ron. Don't forget it!" she giggled. She looked up at the cloudy sky. "At least it's a mild night for December. We won't get cold, will we?"

"Um, no. What…, what was it you wanted to talk about, Lavender?"

"Actually, you were going to tell me something – remember?"

"Er no, I don't…" Hermione-as-Ron tried to focus. He took another swig of his drink, puzzled.

"What Harry had destroyed, away from the school – of course, silly!"

"Oh, the locket…! Well, the Order of the Phoenix tracked its whereabouts down, and…between them and Harry, it's now been destroyed. So…"

Lavender looked bemused. "A…locket? What – a magical one?"

"Well, yes! It's important to this ongoing war. It held a portion of He-…"

Hermione-as-Ron paused and looked into Lavender's face. In the light of the flickering torches fixed into the walls around the peaceful courtyard, the girl's expression was alert, tense.

"Go on, Won-Won! I'm sure…whatever…Harry is doing is worth the effort. But we…, we only wish to see if we can help!"

_DON'T…call…me…Won-Won!_

Hermione-as-Ron suddenly stood up. He staggered slightly. "I – I shouldn't say anymore, Lavender! I…, I better get back inside…"

Was that a flash of anger in Lavender's eyes? Hermione shuddered, then turned and walked back into the school, not bothering to collect his drink.

"Ron!"

Hermione ignored Lavender's plaintive cry, and carried on. The music of the latest waltz filled the air of the approach corridor.

Back inside the hall, he stopped for a moment, wondering what to do. Edging around the perimeter of the dance floor, he made his way over to where Harry's party had been seated.

"Oops! Watch out, Mr Weasley!" a woman's jolly voice cried out.

Hermione stifled a yell, as Hagrid and the almost-as-large Miss Doubleday veered off course from their dance swirls and crashed into the table Hermione had been next to. It tipped to one side, as the supply teacher toppled over. Miss Doubleday, her dark-brown hair bound in a bob for the occasion, tittered with embarrassment.

"Sorry 'bout tha'!" Hagrid pulled his partner back up and straightened the round wooden table, then led the relief teacher back into the thick of the swirling dancers. Hagrid allowed his attention to wander back to Miss Doubleday's bosom…

Hermione-as-Ron smiled and shook his head.

_At least it's not just me who fell for Miss Doubleday's Weapons of Mass Distraction…_

_Hold on! Where's Ron and Neville? They were meant to be dancing together!_

Hermione looked carefully around the Great Hall. Harry and Luna seemed to be coping well together, and Ginny was accounted for – but not Ron or Neville…

Hermione jumped as a hand fell upon his shoulder from behind. He spun round.

"Who…? Oh – you again, Lavender!"

"You forgot your drink!" The Gryffindor girl announced meekly. She passed his half-full glass back to him.

"Um…Thanks."

"Look, Ron… I'm sorry for being intrusive." Lavender looked down at her shoes for a moment, avoiding Hermione-as-Ron's gaze. "It's… Well, do you realise what it's like feeling that people you know apparently doing something for…, for the war effort – but that you're just treated as a bystander?"

Hermione considered that. A part of him – the old Hermione – just wanted to break away from Lavender altogether. But the male part of him, having bedded in during the week, felt sorry for the hurt-looking girl before his eyes.

He took a sip of his shandy, and considered his words.

"I…think I understand. But I really can't say anything about Harry's excursions. They're important – that's all you need to know," he declared.

Lavender looked annoyed, and she looked away for a moment. Then she faced Hermione-as-Ron again with a smile. "All right. I can accept that!" She finished her drink, then continued to hold Hermione's gaze. Silence fell between them. Slightly unnerved, Hermione finished his drink also.

At that moment, the waltz came to an end. The dancers stopped. The more gentlemanly of those present complimented their partners.

"Tell you what…why don't we have a dance, Ron? Since we don't have partners…" Lavender simpered.

"Er… Actually, I was hoping to track down Hermi…"

"Oh, don't worry about her! Just one dance – for old time's sake. You know you want to, really!"

And within moments, Hermione-as-Ron found that he _did_ want to dance with Lavender – despite his earlier thoughts and actions towards her. Lavender was wearing lavender perfume, appropriately enough, Hermione noticed as he drew closer – and her face and sparkling eyes were attractive.

"Um…alright, then. Just the one dance." Hermione-as-Ron took Lavender's offered hand, and led her onto the dance floor.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Elsewhere, on the second floor, Ron-as-Hermione slowed down and rested after her dash up the shifting staircase. Panting, she stopped altogether upon approaching the landing.

Shivers ran along her spine. She could hear voices. Crabbe and Goyle's voices.

" 'Glad you decided to pop back! I couldn't carry 'im by myself."

"No worries! So – into the 'Lost and Found' room – along with the other one, eh?" Goyle snickered.

"Yeah – but let's make sure he goes into a trunk that's placed well away from that first dimwit! Don't want them to pair up and turn the tables against us – do we? Wands or no wands!" Crabbe retorted.

" 'Course not!" Goyle paused, then spoke again. "Right – all clear. Let's go! Who's gonna replace him, then? You, or me?"

"Dunno about that! See what the boss says, first of all…"

_The boss…? But Draco Malfoy left Hogwarts with the Death Eaters, on the night Dumbledore died…_ Ron-as-Hermione frowned. Her heart began to race. Crabbe and Goyle were clearly up to no good – so what was she going to do about it?

Ron quickly flattened herself against the stairs, wand at the ready. The undynamic duo soon appeared – Crabbe in front, walking backwards, as he and Gregory Goyle carried the body of Neville Longbottom between them…

_Why, you…!_

Fury etched on her face, Ron-as-Hermione straightened herself up and fired with her wand.

"_Langlock!"_

The jinx struck Goyle as he turned his face, startled by the voice. Immediately, his tongue was forced upwards to the roof of his mouth, where it became stuck.

"Ummm! Fince – fotch ouut!"

Completely taken aback, Vincent Crabbe unceremoniously dropped Neville, and dived for cover, as he reached for his own wand. Ron forced herself on, driven by her anger, as she ran beyond the landing and onto the stretch of corridor where the Slytherin boys were. Crabbe was trying to hide behind a nearby statue, in order to take cover as he raised his wand. Ron quickly slammed her shoulder against the oncoming Goyle, sending him off-balance.

"_Stupefy!" _roared Crabbe.

But Ron managed to dodge the hastily-fired spell. Answering with a stunning spell of her own, Ron struck Crabbe on his forehead. With a cross-eyed look of befuddlement, the overweight young man folded in on himself, and collapsed upon the stone floor.

"Kumm heer, uu…!" Unable to cast non-verbal spells, Goyle sprang forward and grabbed Ron-as-Hermione from behind. She squealed as she was forced into a headlock. Ron gasped at the pressure Goyle was exerting…

_If only_…(gasp)…_I can get my…arm free, and_…(cough)…_point my wand at Goyle!_

"Dropp itt!" The Slytherin pupil squeezed a little harder, forcing Ron's vision to swim. Her wand fell from her weakened grip. Goyle kicked it away with his foot.

Suddenly, Ron was let go – only to be pushed headlong towards the nearest wall. Ron struck her temple, and slid down. As she looked up, she saw – through her fuzzy vision – Gregory Goyle smirking as he raised his fist, ready to knock her out.,,

"_Levicorpus!"_

"Urr!" Goyle abruptly zipped upwards and turned over in mid-ascent.

Ron blinked, and allowed her eyesight and throbbing head to recover. When she able to see clearly, she gave a snort of laughter. Goyle was now dangling above the nearest flight of the moving staircase, suspended by his ankle in mid-air. He was unable to scream, as his tongue was still bound by the Langlock spell – but he was squirming violently, and his expression was one of wide-eyed terror.

"Nurr…! 'et mee downn…!"

Ron shook with hysterics. Then her mirth died away as she saw who had come to her rescue. She quickly, and instinctively, drew her knees in towards her.

"Y-you!"

Madame C Skerritt gave a thin smile. Using Ron's wand, she fired off another spell, which rendered Gregory Goyle unconscious - then tossed the wand over to its owner.

Ignoring her throbbing temple, Ron quickly scrambled over to Neville, who lay on the floor close by. He was unconscious - but breathing.

Ron gave a sigh of relief, and cast the spell to help wake Neville up.

"_Rennervate."_

"Ur! Ur…?" Neville grunted. He groaned. It would take him some minutes to properly come to. Time enough for…

"Erm… Thank you, Madame…Trickster!" Ron-as-Hermione faced the seemly-solid Skerritt woman. "But why…?"

"…why did I help you, Miss _Witch_? Because it amuses me to see that young man suspended above the stairs! Also, I have come to talk with you. You and the real Miss Granger seemed to have adjusted to your new identities admirably, I have noticed. Indeed, you are both enjoying the evening – yes?"

"Uh, yes. I _was_, anyway. Until I got concerned for my friend, here…" Ron shot back.

"Well, Miss Granger – or rather the _other_ _Mr Weasley_ – is having a grand time, downstairs. So much so, that I think you two should stay as you are! Unless you can _truly_ be honest with each other by midnight – my 'gender-bending' magic will become permanent! Still, I think a part of you is quite happy at being a witch…"

Ron's mouth hung open. It took a few attempts before she could speak.

"Wh-wh-wh-_what?_ You told us we had until Christmas to break the j-j-j_…, lynx!_ That's five days away!"

The grey-clad woman chuckled. "As your friends have worked out, I am a _Trickster_! I make the rules – and _I _can change them. Remember, you and the real Miss Granger have until midnight to reverse my jinx. As soon as it becomes the Winter Solstice, my special spell will be binding for the rest of your lives. Goodnight!" With a cheery wave, the entity faded from sight.

"Stop! _How_ do we reverse the…?" Ron trailed off. Shaking, she checked Hermione's watch on her wrist.

It was eleven fifty!

"_Bloody hell! Ten minutes!"_

Immediately chastising herself for such unladylike language, Ron-as-Hermione got up upon her feet, and ran – as fast as her dress and shoes would allow her – towards the Great Hall…

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

When she reached the dance floor, the first people Ron saw – out of her friends – were Harry and Luna. Ignoring the facts that the lights were half-dimmed, and that they were in the middle of the ninth dance, Ron-as-Hermione frantically managed to drag the pair off the edge of the dance floor.

"What…? Hermione! What's got into you…?" Harry took a good look at his friend. His expression charged from anger to worry.

"Neville! He's been attacked by Crabbe and Goyle! He's recovering now…"

"Where…?"

"Second floor landing! And…in the Lost and Found room… There's someone else who they kidnapped!" Ron stopped to regain her breath. The music had come to a standstill – the musicians trailing off, one by one, on their stringed instruments as they saw the dancers stopping, thanks to the commotion.

The torches flared back to full-flame. Blaise Zabini and Parvati Patil were frowning. Cormac McLaggen – dancing with a black girl – was paying keen attention. Most of the crowd looked merely put out. Then Professor McGonagall approached the trio, having heard the conversation. She saw the look on Ron-as-Hermione's face.

"Professor Slughorn, Professor Flitwick, Professor Lupin…"

"Right here, Headmistress," Horace Slughorn put down the glass of sherry he was drinking at a nearby table and made his way over. The diminutive Flitwick ran across to them, as did Remus Lupin.

"Come with me. The rest of you – remain here!" McGonagall pulled out her wand from within her robes. "You stay here, too, Miss Granger! You look shaken…" she added, kindly guiding 'Hermione' over to a seat. "Mr Potter – stay with her! I don't want you getting into trouble."

After the three teachers left, however, Ron jumped back up again. " 'Mione…! I mean _Ron!_ Where's Ron…?"

"Oh, dear…" Luna's airy voice wavered.

"What is it, Luna?" Harry asked her.

"Ron's probably in the courtyard. He looked as though he'd got Wrackspurts in his head… No! Wait, _Hermione_!"

But Ron was in a hurry. She had to find the real Hermione, and quickly!

Ron-as-Hermione only stopped to gasp for breath as she reached the courtyard. The fresh night air came as a relief against her flushed, sweating face. Noises came from the steps on the edge of the fountain.

"Mmm…" There was the sound of a kiss, followed by another. "Do you trust me enough now to say what magic Harry has hidden up his sleeve…?"

"Well, there's his invisibility cloak. And a magical map…" Hermione-as-Ron paused. "Did anyone tell you make a great dancing partner, Lavender?"

There was the sound of a familiar giggle. "It's all in the chemistry! It takes two to Tango, or Foxtrot…"

"…Or Waltz," 'Ron' agreed as he smooched Lavender Brown again, holding her close against him.

"Tell me about this map." Lavender placed a firm hand against the chin of 'Ron', forcing him to break lip-contact.

Ron-as-Hermione felt her mind go blank. Her body was suddenly a separate being – independent from the rest of her. Only two things compensated for the sudden numbness – sheer anger, and jealously…

Running around to the near-opposite side of the trickling fountain, Ron fired a spell at one of the basins – more exactly, the tier above the couple seated on the stone steps. The displaced water shot outward and drenched 'Ron' and Lavender.

"_Aaaggghhh!"_ They both screamed. Lavender's refilled glass slipped from her grasp and shattered on the ground.

Then the bell of the school clock was struck by the attendant house elf. In a daze, a part of Ron-as-Hermione's mind counted the chimes.

Twelve. Midnight had arrived. It was now Sunday the 21st December – the Winter Solstice.

Time had run out.

Both Hermione-as-Ron and Lavender turned to see their assailant. They froze. Ron and Hermione stared at each other.

"How…? How _could_ you? _Her_ – of all people!" Ron-as-Hermione sobbed. She turned round and ran back into the school, tears flowing from her eyes.

Hermione-as-Ron shook his head, suddenly feeling clear-headed again. His eyes shot from Ron's disappearing figure to Lavender, and back again. He sighed.

_Girls!_

"Ro…-_Hermione!_ Wait!" The genuine Hermione jumped to his feet and ran after the real Ron, ignoring the protests of the soaked Lavender…


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Well, dear readers. Chapter Eight seems to have got some of you asking questions as to what is actually happening in the story! I did leave some clues in the last few chapters – so if you wish to play detective, write down your suspicions before reading this part! The answers will appear here, and in the following, final chapter._

**Chapter Nine:**

**Closer**

The next few minutes were a like a blur to Ron-as-Hermione. She nearly knocked over one of the waiters, who was carrying on his tray used glasses of wine back from the Great Hall. Spying one that was still half-full, Ron snatched it and downed the contents in one gulp, ignoring the servant's dismay. Then Ron was off again, running.

She ended up at the Astronomy Tower.

There, Ron-as-Hermione headed towards the ledge that looked out over the school, and she collapsed against a nearby pillar, feeling small and vulnerable. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"Well. Hell hath no fury like a witch scorned, I suppose…" The voice of Hermione-as-Ron reached her ears, and she looked up. The real Hermione was on his knees, nearby, using a spell from his wand to dry himself. When he had finished, he got up and carefully approached Ron, reaching out with a hand to comfort her.

"Don't come near me!" Ron-as-Hermione yelled, flinching. "This is about you getting one back on me after what I did with Lavender, last year – isn't it? Your way of showing me how you felt hurt…!"

"No – it isn't! I think…, I think Lavender bewitched me with Veritaserum. Possibly something else, too. I'm sorry I upset you, Ron."

"Lu-Luna said…you had Wrackspurts in your…your head. She was right! You were tel-telling Lavender about Harry's secrets!"

"She must…have put something in my drink…" Hermione-as-Ron bowed his head. "I should be thanking you for that soaking, Ron! You…you've made me come back to my senses!" He carefully reached out again – but this time experienced no resistance. Hermione gave Ron a quick squeeze of reassurance, then took out a tissue from his jacket pocket and wiped Ron's tears with it. The tissue was still damp from the fountain water.

Slowly, Ron's crying dried up. Her anger faded as she remembered why she'd been so keen to track down Hermione in the first place.

"It's too late, 'Mione! We're stuck as we are, now!"

"Wh-what! We've got until Christmas…"

"That Skerritt woman appeared to me again! She's changed the goal posts! She gave me until midnight for us to break the j-j-j-, _aagghh!_ The you-know-what! We had to be honest with each other before then. She said _you _were having fun. And you _were!_" Ron wiped his eyes - then sniffed. "How…how did you find me?"

"Um…an irate waiter pointed the way you fled, when I asked him," Hermione replied. He froze as footsteps approached, climbing the staircase. The door to the balcony opened, and Lavender – her hair half-plastered to her head – emerged. She shot daggers at the slumped 'Hermione'.

"There you are, Ron…" Lavender announced quietly. She seemed to be struggling to hold back her temper, Ron-as-Hermione noticed.

"How did you…?" Hermione-as-Ron began.

"Find you? I have learnt a few spells that are not on the school curriculum. Like tracking…" Lavender announced mysteriously. She spoke up. "Leave Granger where she is, Ron! You and I haven't finished our business yet…"

"Yes…we…have," Hermione-as-Ron muttered darkly. He turned to face her directly. "Leave us alone, Lavender. Now!"

Lavender curled her lip, her eyes blazing. She grabbed firmly grabbed 'Ron's' wrist. "You _know_ you want to be with me! You _feel _it! C'mon, Won-Won!"

"DON'T call me WON-WON!" Hermione-as-Ron yelled. Without thinking, he lashed out with his free hand and struck Lavender's face. A moment later, Hermione's wand was raised – and the annoying Gryffindor girl was struck by a stunning spell. Lavender gave an indignant squeal as the blast sent her crashing against the far wall. Then she slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Ron-as-Hermione got to her feet, and stared at 'Ron' with approval – her anger now evaporating altogether.

"She'll wake up, before long." The genuine Hermione turned back round. "Now – where were we before that rude interruption, Ron?"

Ron-as-Hermione briefly related her meeting with Madame Skerritt to the real Hermione.

"Oh…!"

"It's my fault! _I'm_ the one who got us both into this stupid _mess_ in the first place! I'm so, so sorry, 'Mione! I've ruined our lives!" And Ron-as-Hermione promptly broke down into another fit of crying. She leaned into the embrace as Hermione-as-Ron came over her and held her in his arms. Hermione stroked her shoulders and her hair. His soft caresses helped to gradually calm Ron down.

"All right, Ronnie. So we're stuck as we are… What's done is done."

"How can you be so _calm_ about this, 'Mione?" Ron-as-Hermione retorted.

"Well… I'm a boy, now. Aren't boys supposed to be more pragmatic? But underneath, I'm still the rational Hermione… If we really can't go back, then we need to map out our route, going forward…"

"I guess." Ron-as-Hermione sniffed. "Hold on! You just called me 'Ronnie'! Since when did I become 'Ronnie'?"

"Um… As from now, I guess. Sorry – it just slipped out!" The real Hermione apologised. "I can call you 'Ronnie', in private – right?"

Ron snorted. "Only if I can give you a pet name in kind! 'Herman', I suppose…"

Hermione-as-Ron smiled and shook his head. "Doesn't have the same meaning as 'Hermione'. My name is Greek is origin. It means 'Earthly'."

"Perhaps I should call you 'Pete' then. Or 'Peat'!"

"Hah-hah…" Hermione-as-Ron carefully cupped Ron's smooth chin with his hand, urging her to look up at him. "Is it really so bad – becoming a girl, Ron? Or being me?" he asked softly. "Apart from the time spent on make-up. And the periods…"

Ron-as-Hermione sniffed. She took the latest tissue her friend now offered her, in order to wipe her nose.

"It's not so bad, I suppose… I'm now interested in make-up and fashion. Us…us girls can wear a wider range of clothes – compared to you boys! And I feel like I get on better with Ginny and Luna! I'm opening up more as a female, than I was as a male." Ron dried her eyes. "What-what about you – is it worse for you being a boy, compared to being a lady?"

Hermione-as-Ron considered that - then gave a wry smile. "I'm not missing the periods… And...I must admit it's quicker to go to the toilet, and get ready for a posh evening like this, when you're male. I seem to be more attuned to Harry and Neville, now. And I feel more physically confident as a young man. So, yes! I'll miss my parents – but…"

"No, you won't." Ron-as-Hermione interjected.

"Sorry?"

"We will stay together – if we survive this war, 'Mione! I want to be by your side. Your parents can become your parents-in-law – right?"

Hermione-as-Ron sucked in his breath. "You mean…? You would…_marry_…me?"

"Yes! And not out of convenience, because of our shared secret. But because I happen to love you, 'Mione! There – I've finally said what I could never bring myself to say before to you! At least we're still of the opposite sex. If you can't be my lady – then will you do me the honour of being my man?"

"Oh, my gosh! You _are _being serious… You are attracted to me, in spite of me being male – of being _you_…? Er, that I _look _like you…?" Hermione-as-Ron widened his eyes.

"Yes – no! _Aagghh! _I'm not gay! I'm not in love with you, because you look like me!" Ron-as-Hermione stammered. "I accept who and what I am now. I am Hermione Granger in the eyes of the world – and with each passing day, I'm thinking more like a girl. And I _feel _like a female! I now realise what a git – sorry, I mean _idiot_ - I was at the last Ball. I wanted to ask you to be my dance partner – but I couldn't say the words! And I was jealous of Viktor Krum. That night, I upset Parvati. And I upset _you_. And I'm sorry." Ron lowered her head - then raised it again. "You could look like Gregory Goyle, if you like! I wouldn't care – because it's what is _inside _that counts, isn't it? I love _you, _the mind and soul of Hermione Granger!"

"Well…!" Hermione-as-Ron fell silent, as he collected his startled thoughts. He gently took Ron's feminine hand. "I had better say something too, then. From now on, my name is Ronald Weasley! My middle name is…?"

"Bilius," Ron helpfully supplied.

"Right. I am now Ronald Bilius Weasley – and I am proud to be a _wizard_! And, in spite of all our mishaps and our bickering, I love you, too, _Ronnie! _Not Lavender – but _you_."

"You…, you do?" Ron-as-Hermione felt her heart miss a beat.

"Yes, I do. I've wanted to say that before, for… Oh, too long, now! But I wanted it to be said at the right time - when I knew you felt the same way about me! Not before then! I was scared you wouldn't return my feelings…"

"Same here!" Ron-as-Hermione exclaimed.

"Then… Then we've been dancing _around_ each other for too long, Ron! Tonight, we dance _together_. Figuratively speaking, as well as physically…" Hermione-as-Ron smiled broadly. "Lavender told me you were good in the kissing department. Would you care to prove it to me, if that's true?"

"Oh, sure…" Ron angled her face, and met Hermione-as-Ron's lips in a long, passionate kiss. Hermione's arms reached around his partner's hips, admiring how soft and warm the new Ron felt within his embrace. How good she smelt, and tasted. In turn, Ron smelt the aftershave of the new Hermione – at the same time feeling his firm shoulders, as she experienced a wave of pleasure cascading through her entire being. On a whim, she reached down with one hand and patted around Hermione-as-Ron's groin…

Hermione broke lip contact, looking startled. "Ron! You…_minx!_"

Ron-as-Hermione giggled and drew her hand away. "Sorry! Hehehe! Just checking to see if there was more to your passion that just words!"

"Well, now you know! I feel as a _man_ now. And thanks to my new instincts, I want to love, honour, and protect you – like any gentleman would do for his lady!" Hermione-as-Ron's indignation gradually gave way to a grin. "You should know, Ron. I have wondered what it would be like if we were married. Assuming of course, that You-Know-Who _doesn't_ have a future – and we do…"

"You've wondered, too…? That's great!" Ron-as-Hermione looked at the real Hermione with delight. "We…we could still marry, right? If we're really committed to making this relationship work – despite swapping roles…"

"Well, when the time is right for us…" Hermione-as-Ron smirked. "And the advantage here, Ron, is that if we do marry you would get to be a Weasley again!"

"Ha-ha…!" Ron-as-Hermione's sarcastic laugh gave way, as a smile reached her eyes.

"I've got a question for you, 'Pete'…"

"Yes?"

"Is it true that women experience multiple orgasms during…you-know-what?"

"Ronnie!"

"Well? Is it?"

"Yes – if…_the act_…is played out right! Or so I've _read._"

"Oh, goody!"

Ron's giggling was silenced as Hermione-as-Ron planted another smoochy kiss on her lips. In turn, Ron snaked her arms around Hermione's neck and pulled him in closer – wanting her new-found joy to wash away the anger and jealously from earlier on…

Suddenly, Ron grimaced and broke off.

"What's wrong? I wasn't that bad…? Was I?" Hermione asked, worriedly.

"No! I…, I think I need to go to the loo. Blast! I thought those cramps had gone! Excuse me…" Ron-as-Hermione quickly left the balcony, and headed downstairs. Hermione-as-Ron was left alone with the prone, mercifully-silent Lavender. He checked her over, and sighed – pulling out his wand.

_I had better bring her back to the land of the awake, I suppose…_

"_Rennervate!"_

"Urr! Wh…? Urr…"

Hermione leaned back against a nearby column, and looked down at the barely-awake girl before him.

_What did she put in my drink, for her to lure me back to the courtyard and start telling her about Harry? _Hermione frowned. _Why was she so persistent…?_

_Well, in any case, I have this new life to fully embrace now. As a man! Until when – or if – we can tell them the truth, I have Mr and Mrs Weasley as my parents. Five brothers, for Merlin's sake…! And Ginny. In the eyes of the world, Ginny is now my sister! I just hope I can be worthy of their love…_

Suddenly, the door to the stairs slammed open. Harry stood in the doorway. He gawped at the two Gryffindors - apparently bewildered.

"Ron! What's going on here? Where's Hermione?"

"Um… She had to go…to the loo! And Lavender was being a pest, Harry… Erm, I need to have a word with you, about her – actually…"

"We certainly do." Harry reached into a pocket of his suit jacket, and began to pull out the Marauder's Map. "I went back to our dormitory for this, given what Hermione said about somebody being in the Lost and Found room. According to the map…"

"Urrgghh!" Hermione-as-Ron suddenly experienced a strong tingling sensation that made him go weak all over. He collapsed upon his knees.

"Ron! What the hell…?"

But Hermione-as-Ron was unable to speak. Something was happening to his body. Somewhere, close by, he thought he could hear a certain Trickster laughing…

His form began to change. The span of his shoulders, hidden beneath the suit jacket and smart shirt, became narrower. The arms and hairy legs lost some of their muscle definition and shrank slightly. Elsewhere, his malehood felt like it was receding…

The voice in Hermione's head cried out three words, in realisation.

_Ooohhh…! Of course...!_

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

Ron-as-Hermione was passing through the large hallway outside the Great Hall, en route to the ground floor toilets where Crabbe and Goyle had placed their badly-spelt sign to lure Neville into a trap. As she hurriedly walked on, the tingling in Ron's lower body intensified. Then her muscles and bones began to ache. Next came the sensation of crawling skin…

"Urr!" Another cramp – violent this time – struck her. Ron staggered and stopped her forward motion by pressing an outstretched hand against the corner of the wall she nearly crashed into.

"Hermione! Are you all right? You don't look well."

Ron-as-Hermione looked to her right. Ginny was staring at her, standing around with a group of pupils who had left the Great Hall whilst waiting for the Headmistress to return. Justin, who was next to Ginny, walked forwards.

"C'mon. Lean on me," he advised her. "We'll escort you into the hall…"

"No! I…I'll be alright! I just need…need to be by myself." Ron-as-Hermione pushed herself on, stumbling along the corridor.

_Urr! Shoes are pressing in on my feet! And that's not the only thing…_

Ron took them off - then froze. She heard her tights start to split. Her legs were being affected in the same way as her arms and hands. And that meant…

Giving a yell of panic, Ron tried to hurry towards the toilets – but her whole body was shifting now, and she fell to her knees, gasping. Ron felt her hair starting to recede into her head. Underneath the torn tights, hairs were growing on her exposed legs.

_Noooo! I spent too much time shaving them, this morning! I…I have to get to the toilets… Hermione! He'll be in trouble, too!_

Fumbling her way to the toilets, Ron-as-Hermione crawled the remaining couple of yards along the corridor on her knees, then pushed open the nearest door – the one leading to the Gents.

"Hermione?" It was Ginny's voice, back along the corridor, calling out in alarm.

_No! Can't let her – anyone – see me like this!_ Ron forced herself back up, dropping her shoes in her panic, as she staggered into the thankfully-deserted Boys toilets…

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

"Ron! Speak to me!" Harry squatted down next to the convulsing figure of Hermione-as-Ron, as he thrashed around. Harry dropped his wand, and held 'Ron' in place, whilst he incredulously watched the ginger hair of his friend turn brown and grow to shoulder-length. Also, 'Ron' shrank a little – and underneath the dried-out suit, it was possible to see that the Gryffindor pupil had developed modest feminine curves…

"_Hermione…?" _Harry's mouth gaped open. Blinking, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. That didn't change the image of Hermione in Ron's evening clothes, now recovering her breath, on the floor before him. In his disbelief, Harry re-checked the activated Marauder's Map - then he folded it up again.

"Um… Hi, Harry!" Hermione smiled sheepishly, pleased to hear that she was speaking with her original voice again. "It's a long story, but…"

She was interrupted by a nearby scream. Both Hermione and Harry looked up, to see Lavender Brown on her feet once more – but now backing up against a pillar as she jabbed a shaking finger at the just-unmasked Hermione. The other girl looked stricken, aghast.

"Gr-_Granger_! I da-danced with… I kissed _YOU?"_

Lavender's eyes rolled up and she slid down the pillar, to flop back upon the floor in a dead faint.

Harry turned round and gave Hermione another wide-eyed look – too astonished to speak.

At that moment, Professor Remus Lupin burst onto the landing – his wand at the ready. He stopped and gazed at Hermione incredulously.

"Hermione… Why are you dressed in a man's suit?"

"Erm… I'll explain that a little later! There's a more pressing matter! Lavender drugged me with something. I'm sorry – but she got me to tell her about the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map! She was very keen to discover what you were up to, out of school, Harry! We should…"

"…modify her memory? I'll do that," Lupin offered. "How far back should I go?"

"Um… Everything since the sixth dance would be rather good…," Hermione suggested, half-wishing she could forget how she had behaved then, as well.

"_Obliviate." _Professor Lupin invoked the memory-tampering spell with his wand pointed at Lavender's head. She gave a moan, as she felt the effects.

"Right – she's coming to. I've got the antidote from Professor Slughorn, here. Saves him climbing these stairs," Lupin announced, pulling out a vial from inside his suit jacket. He took off the stopper, and carefully poured a little of the liquid into Lavender's mouth as he raised her head.

"Antidote?" Hermione pulled herself into a half-raised position, and leaned against the balustrade behind her. "Why are you giving Lavender anti…?"

"This isn't Lavender," Harry informed her. "When I got the Marauder's Map from my dormitory, I came straight here. I couldn't understand why the map was showing you and Ron with…"

"NOT Lavender!" Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Merlin! Then who did I punch…?"

"No – Professor McGonagall and I found Lavender Brown in one of the trunks in the Lost and Found room," Lupin explained. "It was clear she'd been there for quite some time. And yet 'she' was last seen by me, dancing with Ron…"

"Um… That was me. I mean – I was 'Ron'," Hermione meekly supplied. Harry and Lupin gave her quizzical looks.

"All right… Anyway, with 'Lavender' clearly being an imposter – I too thought of using the Marauder's Map to track down our felon," Professor Lupin continued his account. "I knew you would already be on the same track, Harry – and I came across Miss Lovegood outside the Gryffindor common room, who helpfully passed onto me where you were going."

"The Polyjuice potion theft!" Hermione slapped her head, in realisation.

"Yes, several doses of it – along with some Veritaserum and Beguilement potion, which it seems you were drugged with, Hermione." Lupin glanced at 'Lavender Brown', whose face was now twitching. "Ah, now we'll see her unmasked. I rather fancy the Headmistress is going to roast her!"

Harry already knew what to expect now, of course – thanks to the Marauder's Map – but he, Hermione, and Professor Lupin all watched as the over-cute Gryffindor girl convulsed in her barely-alert slumber. The blond-brown tresses of the imposter darkened to a black curtain of hair. The eyes also changed colour, losing their pretence of friendliness – and the smooth face, with its laughter lines around the small mouth, gave way to a sterner, blander portrait. It was now the face of…

"Pansy Parkinson!" Hermione breathed.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

"Hermione? Are you okay? Why are you in the Boy's room? Say something!" Ginny knocked on the locked door of the cubicle where Ron-as-Hermione had retreated to.

"I'm…okay. Go…!" Ron closed her mouth. Her voice was getting deeper as her larynx changed, along with her jaw line and broadening shoulders. Ron had slumped upon the floor of the cubicle, her body now arching, convulsing, even as she tried to undo her dress. Her panties were now uncomfortable on her – not just because her hips were reshaping, but also because a certain part of the old Ron's anatomy was growing back into place…

_Damn! Why did Ginny have to be so alert as to my distress, and follow me in here? I need Hermione or Luna with me…!_

"Arrgghh!" Ron gritted her teeth against the final convulsion. Her breasts receded into a now broader, hairier chest. Ron panted - then tried to remove the torn tights from a pair of masculine legs.

"You definitely don't sound well, Hermione! If you can't unlock the door, I'm opening it myself!"

_NOOOO!_ Ron managed to get up. Two re-altered hands firmly held the door handle.

"_Alohomora!"_

There was a pause. Seeing that the door wasn't giving way, Ginny changed tactics.

"Hermione – stand back! I'm blasting the door down!"

The blood drained from Ron's face. HE froze rigid.

_Maybe I could pretend both me and 'Mione are in here…!_

"_Expulso!"_

The blast blew the door into fragments. Ron yelled, as he was flung back into a far corner of the cubicle. Trying to move, he found himself wedged in-between the toilet seat and the remains of the door.

_Bloody hell! My own sister…!_

"Wha…?" Ginny coughed as she tried to comprehend the voice that had cried out. Her eyes peered through the dispersing dust…

An instant later, the toilets rang to the echo of Ginny's piercing scream.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten:**

**Close To You**

After a long night that involved rescuing both Ron and Hermione from their clothing predicaments; getting Neville, Crabbe, Goyle, Lavender _and _Pansy all back to their senses – plus some stern questioning from Professors McGonagall, Slughorn, and Lupin – everyone caught up in the overnight drama was glad to finally get to bed.

_Thank goodness for Dobby…,_ Harry mused. Having overslept, he, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were now tucking into rounds of cereal and toast that Dobby, Winky, and some of the other House-Elves in the kitchen had apparated for them. Luna too was now with them, completing the six some of the evening before. They were eating their late breakfast in the deserted Gryffindor common room. With the autumn term and Yule Ball over, most of the Gryffindors had now departed for Hogsmeade station, to catch today's run of the Hogwarts Express.

"Welcome to our den, Luna!" Ron smiled as he finished off his second round of toast, having regained his usual appetite, along with most of his mannerisms. "What do you think?" he waved a butter-smeared hand at the pink walls and open fire.

"It's cosy!" Luna smiled back. "I ought to invite you all to the Ravenclaw common room, some time. We get wonderful views of the mountains, the lake, and the loch too!"

"Well… I'm still getting my head around the fact that I danced with Ron, and kissed his hand. Or rather _her_ hand," Harry muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He gave Ron and Hermione a meaningful look. "I'm really glad you two are back to normal!"

Ron turned his attention to Ginny, who was sat next to him. She had been quiet since getting up, and she glanced back at him with mistrust. She was still shaking slightly from her shock of the night before.

Ron sighed. "Ginny… Don't look at me like that! I'm really _me_, now."

"It would have been nice to know that I had a sister…" Ginny almost whimpered, her lips twitching with fleeting amusement.

"We've already been over this," Hermione spoke up, defending Ron. Initially, she and Ron were embarrassed to talk about their last week – but they both realised that Harry and the others wouldn't be satisfied until the mystery had been explained to them. "Ron and I – and later on, Luna – were impaired by that Trickster's jinx. We couldn't tell you what we were going through! We couldn't even write it down."

"So when was Lavender replaced by Pansy?" Neville tactfully changed the topic, as he finished his cereal and grabbed his first slice of toast.

"Sometime during Wednesday, so far as Lupin has been able to tell me," Harry answered. "Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were responsible for stealing the Polyjuice, Veritaserum, and Beguilement potions. They must have been planning for an opportunity to infiltrate Gryffindor House…"

"…and seeing her opportunity, Pansy and her boys overcame Lavender – then Pansy acted out her new role, trying different tactics to find out Harry's secrets," Hermione reasoned. "She had already invented her cover story – that her uncle was gravely ill. So, after everyone thinks she's left the premises, she takes the Polyjuice potion, and becomes Lavender. She must have got into this common room at the same time as another Gryffindor."

"Well, even Parvati didn't notice that Lavender had been replaced – Pansy certainly nailed the role of Lavender down!" Neville pointed out.

"She's in the Amateur Dramatics group," Ron pointed out. "She was actually good in that play, some weeks ago. If only she could be as nice as her character was!"

"And what exactly happened to Neville, last night?" Luna asked.

"Last night, the next phase in Pansy's plan was carried out," Ron added. "Using a false 'Out of order' sign, outside the boys' toilets nearest to the Great Hall, Crabbe and Goyle lured Neville to a more remote location, where it was safer to ambush him. Once they had shut him away, they would've used the Polyjuice potion to 'replace' him – only I upset their operation."

"Good for you, Ron!" Hermione beamed at him. "Though I wonder how long Crabbe or Goyle would have lasted before one of us saw through the fake Neville. Anyway – back to last night. In my case, Pansy had not only drugged my drink with the Beguilement and Veritaserum mixture, she must have been sipping Polyjuice potion mixed in her own drink – until Ron caused her glass to be smashed, thanks to that splash from the fountain. It was that soaking which snapped me back to my senses. Thank you." Hermione reached over and held Ron's hand. He stopped munching his toast.

"Um… You're welcome!" he replied – managing to clear his mouth, before replying.

Being female had helped Ron to improve how he conducted himself, in some regards, at least – Hermione considered, smiling to herself.

"So – will Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle get kicked out of Hogwarts now?" Neville's eyes widened, in hope.

Harry sighed, and shook his head. "Lupin's told me. No – they won't." A grin then formed on his lips. "But they're in for a long spell of detentions, and Slytherin House will be heavily knocked in the points department. I understand from Professor Slughorn that he's _not_ the only Slytherin who's furious with the trio! I'm looking forward to seeing those three nits being shunned at their house table."

"But they were surely planning to pass on your secrets to the Death Eaters!" Ginny protested. "Or to Draco Malfoy – or maybe their Death-Eater sympathetic parents…"

"Unless we use Veritaserum on Pansy and the undynamic duo, can anyone prove they were planning to pass what they would have learnt, on to others?" Luna ventured.

"Maybe not." Harry finished his plate and got up from his chair. "Right! I've got Christmas presents to wrap up, and cards to write! What's everyone else doing, today?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, speaking without words.

"I think 'Mione and me need some time together. By ourselves," Ron declared. "By the way... Can what happened to us two be kept secret? A few teachers will know – but Parkinson won't remember, now that Lupin's modified her memory. And the other pupils need not…hear about this."

Hermione nodded eagerly. If Madame Skerritt's work became public knowledge around Hogwarts, she and Ron would never hear the last of it…

"Of course!" Harry replied.

"Sure!" Neville agreed.

"I have never broken anyone's trust yet. And I hope I never will," Luna declared, smiling.

Ron turned anxiously to Ginny. "Not a word of this to our family. _Especially_ Fred and George…!" he warned her.

His sister grimaced. "Ron! What do you take me for?" Then she allowed a small smile to creep across her lips. "On the other hand – if your Christmas present to me is as rubbish as last year's…"

"Ginny…!"

"Just kidding, Ron."

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

The next Thursday, Christmas Day, came quickly. There had been a steady snow shower on Christmas Eve, and – not for the first time – the Hogwarts Estate was a winter picture postcard delight, in time for the holidays.

After breakfast, Ron managed to get some time alone with Hermione in the common room, whilst Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were all outside, engaging in a noisy snowball fight.

"I trust that you didn't look inside the middle drawer besides my bed, Ron?" Hermione asked him, as they sat down together on the padded sofa. "You know, the one I told you not to touch."

"No, I didn't," Ron replied honestly. "Did…did you have something in there, for me?"

"Yes - your Christmas present. I received it by owl before we…, um… Before you became…Ronnie…, and I became…"

"Herman? Pete?" Ron couldn't resist a smile.

"Whichever." Hermione produced a wrapped gift from behind a corner cushion, where it had been hidden before breakfast time. She smiled. "Merry Christmas, Ron!"

Ron took it, and gauged the shape of it. "It's a book."

Hermione nodded.

Ron ripped apart the wrapping paper and read out the title. " 'How To Woo And Live With The Opposite Sex' ." He groaned. "If only I had known - before I got hoodwinked by Madame Skerritt!"

"I should have told you her offer was unnecessary – but my curiosity got the better of me, too," Hermione admitted. "Anyway – this self-help guide series is good. I've already read 'How To Get Your Man To Commit' by Willie Orwonetee! Still – what do you think you've learnt from…our experiences…last week?"

"Too much! I won't ever again complain about how long girls take to get ready for an evening do! And a part of me was beginning to enjoy being a girl – despite those extra classes of yours! I was starting to consider the wider range of clothes I could experiment with…"

"Such as that new pair of shoes which were delivered on Tuesday?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Paid for out of _my_ money?"

"Er, yes. Sorry about that. Again… Anyway, I should also mention that I don't feel so overprotective towards Ginny, since my testosterone levels took a dip…" Ron frowned - then looked back up at Hermione. "Can you tell me, 'Mione, what happened to some of my collectable wizard cards?"

"Oh…! Ahh… Um… I got dragged into a betting session by Dean and Seamus, when I was 'you'. I think Seamus acquired about a dozen. Neville even managed to win Paracelsus, Cliodne, and…, oh yes! Bran the Bloodthirsty…"

"Hermione!"

"Sor-ry! Call it payment for my shoes!"

Ron huffed for a moment – then calmed down, and nodded.

"Okay – we'll call it evens. Now, your turn! What did you get out of being me?"

Hermione considered that. "I have to admit, I was adjusting to the thought of growing up as a man. No more worries about make-up, or being physically afraid of Crabbe or Goyle. And a future free from monthly cramps! And I could get away with eating more. And…, I would have been honoured to be the father of your children…" she admitted sheepishly.

Ron gave her a long, scrutinising look. "Er, right…! Anyway, thanks for this book. I'll definitely be reading it! And, for what it's worth, I'll be watching my weight, from now on… Well, after Christmas – that is." He reached underneath the sofa and pulled out Hermione's present. "Here you go. Merry Christmas, 'Mione!"

"Ooh!" Hermione patted it, feeling its softness - then tore it open to reveal first a pouch of galleons – then, underneath, a black lycra tracksuit, and a black ballet top with red and green markings." She looked up at Ron. "This is the same type as the one you borrowed from Parvati."

"Yes. You…seemed to like it – so I ordered one…with your money… But I've reimbursed you!"

"It's great! Thank you… But what…, what are you not telling me, Ron?" Hermione read his expression.

"Um – I ordered it for meself, in case we got stuck as each other… And I ordered you some aftershave – but you won't be needing that now… Hey! How come we broke the jinx anyway? After Skerritt's sudden deadline…"

"Well, Madame Skerritt was living up to her nature as a _Trickster_. She has to lie, every now and then. But her advice was for us to get our heads together, and be truly honest with each other. We finally did!"

Ron drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa - then snapped them. "We did get our heads together! We _kissed_. And I…, um…told you that I love you. And you said the same to me."

"Yes…" Hermione gave him an intent look. "Whether you are a boy or a girl, Ron. So long as we're of the opposite sex… I want to have a future with you. Whatever is coming our way!"

Ron and Hermione kept their eyes firmly on each other. Then, making the first move, Ron angled his face, and met Hermione half way in a slow, gentle kiss. Their first one in their original forms.

"Thank you, Hermione…," Ron said, his face a picture of joy as they broke lip-contact. "So…, are we officially a couple, now?"

"Well…in public - if you don't mind, Ron – I want us to keep a low profile. I won't be like Lavender, and put myself in a position where anyone like Pansy Parkinson will take advantage of people's relationships. Also, Harry's got enough on his plate, without us two distracting him by being lovebirds."

"Okay… I see your point," Ron responded. "And, in private?"

Hermione grinned and leaned over Ron, pushing him firmly back onto the sofa. She kissed his forehead, then his lips – and she ran her hands across Ron's now-firmer shoulders. "Let's just say I want you to feel like a man again – and for you to make me feel like I'm your lady, always…"

"That sounds good to me! So long as I am close to you." Ron returned Hermione's affections with gusto, savouring her softness, her gentle curves, and the joy in her smile and sparkling eyes. He ran one hand through Hermione's hair. She had recently trimmed it down to how Ron-as-Hermione had worn it at the Ball – and now it was just as attractive as its owner…

Ron was suddenly distracted by something appearing out of the corner of his eye…

Being careful not to dislodge Hermione, Ron whipped out his wand and pointed it at Madame C Skerritt, who had materialised out of nowhere. "You again!" he yelled. "Have you finished your mental games with us, yet?"

The Trickster, this time wearing a white shawl over a black dress, gazed calmly at the two wands aimed in her direction – then she smiled thinly at the angry-looking witch and wizard.

"Congratulations, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger! I see that my work has resulted in a happy ending, after all. The rest is up to you two, now. Make it work!"

Hermione did not lower her wand. "Ron asked you a question! Have you come to torment us again?"

"This is my last visit. Festive greetings to you both!" The woman gave a curtsey. "I just hope that I can find another pair as…_entertaining_…as you two!" Then, with a cackling laugh, and a little wave of her thin hand, the Trickster vanished for good.

"Well…, despite the trouble she's caused, she _has_ helped us to end up closer together…," Ron muttered, as he put away his wand. "With any luck she'll pick on Draco Malfoy next – and change him into a girl! Or do something worse! Anyway - how about we put our gifts away and join Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Luna, in the snow?"

"Let's have another ten minutes to ourselves, first. I just want to be close to you - always!" Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around Ron's shoulders once more. They kissed repeatedly as they snuggled against each other.

"Um, Hermione?" said Ron.

"Yes, Ron?"

"I think you _are _starting to really make me feel like a man again!"

"Yes… I could feel that, too…," Hermione admitted – a coy smile hovering on her lips, as she momentarily glanced down.

"Oops," Ron murmured.

"Don't worry, Ron! We'll have time for that - eventually…" Hermione grinned. Then she locked her lips on Ron's mouth again, and they both savoured the sheer bliss of the moment – wanting it to last forever.

Ron had a feeling it was going to be their best Christmas yet.

THE END!

Hope you've enjoyed it, now that you've made it this far! Please leave well-rounded reviews, saying what particular worked for you. Incidentally, the last three chapters are named after tracks made by one of my favourite musicians - the multi-instrumentalist Mike Oldfield. 'Close To You' is the English translation of the track 'Pres De Toi'. The titles suggested themselves, in keeping with the story, during the write-up. RMB

PS: Please, please read and review my other stories!


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